People Friendly
by Johanna C
Summary: The war is over and the wizarding world is at peace. The people are celebrating and the world is flourishing. But what about their exalted Savior? Who cares enough to remember the sacrifices he has made? And is peace ever truly possible? Not slash
1. Prologue The Train Ride

Disclaimer: All characters and places belong to JK Rowling, WB and the various publishing houses. I do not own any intellectual property related to Harry Potter. I do not make any money from this piece of fanfiction.

Prologue – The Train Ride

The presence of the blank screen in front of him helped to sooth his chaotic mind. The world was spinning too fast, and his thoughts had become too frantic to be truly coherent. He stood in the middle of a crowded train carriage, trying to ignore the harsh intrusion into his personal space; the elbows jabbed into his sides and the back pressed against his own. He was staring at the yellowing walls of the carriage, breath coming in short, sharp bursts. How did people do this everyday? How did they live like this? Did they not feel the suffocating pressure all around them? Then again, these were the very people causing the pressure. Feelings of urgency, tension and an insatiable need to look busy rolled off them in waves. Suddenly self-aware, he huddled in on herself, unconsciously sniffing the air around him as if trying to sense if _he_ was giving off those awful feelings. To him, it was a scent. A musty, dried out scent that was typical of the people's hurried, hassled, yet empty lifestyle.

Taking him by surprise, the carriage doors opened and people around him started to push and shove; they had somewhere to be and they had to be there _now_. Feeling frantic, he let himself be carried out with the crowd. A hurried glance at the station sign indicated that he was actually at his intended stop. Eyes down, and feet in a hurried pace of distress, he exited the station and followed the directions he held in his hand. Eyes nervously glancing left and right. Lips pressed thin and tight. Oh why did he ever agree to this? What had he been thinking? Had he been thinking at all?

A tingle of familiarity pricked his senses and he brought himself out of his reverie. The building was unfamiliar. Warm, brown stone and a welcoming-looking garden. The fence was high, but not unduly so. It was more for presentation rather than actual security. The house itself was modest in size, but comfortable and cozy, one would naturally guess from the façade. All this he had never seen before. But there was a feeling, a sparkle of something he had once held dear.

Blinking nervously, he stepped across the threshold and knocked on the door. He didn't hear anything on the other side. His hands immediately started to worry themselves in his pockets. Just as his courage failed him and he began to turn around and leave, the door was thrown open with a joyous cry of, "Harry!"


	2. Chapter 1 The Party

Chapter 1 – The Party

Harry's flinch at the gregarious welcome went unnoticed as Hermoine Granger-Weasley hugged her best friend close. It was also unnoticed by Ronald Weasley, who was standing behind his wife, grinning his maniac grin, red hair seeming to burn extra brightly in the afternoon light. So while Harry was having a hard time trying not to panic, his friends ushered him happily into their home. His coat was taken and he was carried almost bodily to the sitting room. The couple was sure that Harry would want to meet everyone at once. Harry's face however, betrayed a different story. He was fighting hard to keep from hyper-ventilating. He was pale and sweat rained off his temples. Harry was greeted with an ear-splitting cry of joy from the occupants of the room. They laughed and hugged and reached out to touch him all at once, and Harry felt himself going over the edge. Remus Lupin, who was about to envelope Harry in a bone-crushing hug, stopped in his tracks and stared at Harry curiously.

"Hey kiddo, you feeling alright there?" The concern in his voice was heavy and it hit Harry like a ton of bricks. These people cared about him, he realized, and the last thing he wanted to be to these people was a burden. His problems were his and his alone. No point putting the weight of responsibility on them when they could do nothing to help him. So with a great effort, Harry pulled himself together, at least on the outside, and graced his adopted godfather with a smile.

"I'm alright Remus, just kinda overwhelmed. I knew there was going to be a party, but this is kinda huge!" Harry half-lied, gesturing to the dozens of people crowded into the magically-enlarged sitting room. This earned a grin from his friends and a tentative smile from the werewolf; he was always much harder to fool. Eager to allay all suspicion, Harry quickly gave Remus a hug, suppressing the shudder he felt at being in such close bodily contact with another. He then greeted the entire room, filled with faces he recognized, and some he didn't. Order of the Phoenix members all of them and some who helped out in the war. The old war, he reminded himself. It was over. Voldemort was dead. This thought brought him back to the situation at hand. Hermoine had told him there was going to be a party to celebrate the second anniversary of the demise of the Dark Lord. She had begged him to come, badgering him with calls and letters everyday until he finally relented. He had thought that it would be a small gathering. Dumbledore's inner circle maybe. Some of Dumbledore's Army perhaps. Not this. Not this huge gathering of friendly, rambunctious and touchy people. It was taking every ounce of skill he had to keep the panic at bay. But he had the will. He wouldn't put the burden of his invalid self on these people. They had lives to lead. He could deal with his own problems.

Ron's hand on his back startled him into the present. Most of the people had drifted out into the backyard, where the actual party was going on, and only Ron, Hermoine, Remus and Draco had stayed behind, looking at him expectantly. Harry took a seat near the married couple, sitting so he faced his friends. Surprisingly, the predicted questioning started with Draco.

"How you've been, Harry?" he asked, his usual stoic mask betraying a flicker of concern. This was the boy who had bullied him mercilessly in his younger years. And this was the man who became his closest ally and friend when the Battle of Hogwarts – as the final battle was called – rolled around. Harry knew that fooling him was not going to be easy; Draco was a master of manipulation himself. Remus was another problem; a hyper-sensitive werewolf who cared tremendously for his adopted pup. Ron and Hermoine would be easy enough. He had fooled them before.

Picking his words carefully, Harry smiled calmly and said, "I've been ok Draco. I'm still getting used to the situation, you know? It's been two years and I'm still coming to grips with the fact that he's dead. No more battles, no more training. But it's getting a little bit easier everyday."

Draco seemed to accept this, but Harry knew he was turning the words over in his head, trying to find the true meaning behind it. Harry prayed that he wouldn't think too hard on it.

"Well, that's expected isn't it? The war was your whole life. Its only natural to feel a little lost afterwards." Hermoine added pragmatically.

"Yeah, she's right. Plus, what with all the deaths and stuff ….."

Ron snapped his mouth shut at the glaring insistence of his wife. Harry didn't manage to suppress the violent shudder that escaped him as Ron's words brought back the memories that he desperately wanted to leave behind. Images of pain and horror flashed before his eyes before he effectively managed to shove them behind an impenetrable wall of steel in his mind. Impenetrable that is, until some outside occurrence triggered the floodgates. But Harry himself was very good at ignoring that part of his memories on a daily basis.

His friends were looking at him with concern in their eyes, and he smiled sheepishly. He shrugged his shoulders as if to say, 'Oh well. I can't win all the battles.' Remus reached out to comfort him, and despite his instinct to duck and hide, Harry let him. Harry glanced up at Draco and saw a look of intense concentration on his face. He was going to have to wipe all doubts out of his mind before the day ended. Draco wouldn't let a puzzle get away from him, and his insistent badgering would only cause trouble for Harry.

"Hey, aren't you guys worried at all?" Harry asked, directing his question to the two hosts of the evening.

"Worried about what, Harry?" Hermione's face screwed up in bewilderment.

"That the people outside are gonna trash your backyard, and ruin your precious garden." Harry grinned.

Hermione grinned back, "Well, they should be able to behave for a little while without us."

Smirking slightly, Harry chose to remind them, "You do know that Fred and George are outside without a chaperon right?" Ron's face dropped comically into one of horror and he rushed out to the backyard, hands waving about frantically. Hermione followed at a more sedate pace, but she was clearly a bit perturbed.

Draco and Remus, following behind her, called out, "You coming Harry?"

"I'll be there in a minute. Just wanna take a breather." Harry smiled softly. Nodding his head in understanding, Remus left the room to join the others. Finally giving in to some of his panic, Harry started shuddering. He clasped his hands tight in front of him and hung his head between his legs. If he was going to get through the day, he would have to use every ounce of strength and will he had. Even in the midst of his panic, a glimmer of movement in the shadowy corner of the room caught his eye and he was up and in defensive position in a flash. The shadow moved into the light and Harry's breathe caught in his throat. Snape.

--

Hurriedly relaxing his tense body, he gave the Professor his best glare. How did Harry not notice him in the corner? Did he listen to the entire conversation? Did he suspect anything? If there was anyone Harry had been dreading to meet again, it was Snape. The man was the Slytherin head of house for Merlin's sake! He had been a spy for most his life! If anyone could see past his carefully managed façade, it would be this man. And Harry feared him because of it.

"I find it incredibly alarming that you are on the defensive without your wand out, Potter. But considering your miniscule mental capacity, I cannot say it is unexpected." Snape sneered at him.

This line of comment, Harry had not been prepared for. His wand? Snape had looked past all the other troubling signs to focus on his wand. It was the crux of the situation wasn't it? Harry had been trained to always have his wand ready. It had been drilled into him, and whipping out his wand at the first sign of an attack became a reflex action. Now Harry was standing there, wand nowhere in sight. He had his reasons, but he would die before he ever let Snape find out.

Harry shot out the first thing that came to mind, "I didn't think I would be seriously attacked while in a house full of Order members, would I?"

"Once again your inferior intellect presents itself. Complacency means death Potter." Another Snape sneer, this one laced with even more derision.

Harry almost responded to that insult but reigned back. Let him think what he wanted. Misdirection. Let his hatred cover up for the gaps in Harry's act that he was sure to notice. Glaring angrily, Harry headed for the door, and was surprised again when Snape stopped him with a firm hand on his shoulder. Unprepared for this intrusion, Harry whirled around and knocked Snape's hand away, backpedaling furiously from the attack he perceived to be coming. Sense finally caught up with him, and he blushed furiously. How did he let this disturb him so? Where was his effortless mask he had willed himself to put up?

Snape was staring at him thoughtfully and this did not bode well for Harry. He did not need the extra stress. Smiling sheepishly, he said, "Well, at least I'm alert right?" When this did not get him the scowl he had expected, Harry quickly exited the room, leaving a confused and thoughtful Potions Master behind.

* * *

Author's Note: Ok, so this is the first chapter of my first ever multi-chaptered fic! :) I have most of it planned out, and I'm hoping to post the next chapter next week. Reviews and comments are always appreciated! And oh! I need a beta. Someone to smoothen the rough edges, you know? Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 2 The Slytherin Spy

Chapter 2 – The Slytherin Spy

The rest of the evening passed excruciatingly slow for Harry. The tension and panic in his heart however, grew at an alarming rate. Everybody wanted to see him, talk to him, touch him. He was their savior, and he hadn't been seen out and about in a long time. How many months, they asked. One, maybe two? "More like nine," thought Harry, but he would nod along with whatever number they found more appropriate.

When Harry realized that he wasn't about to hold up much longer, he excused himself and slipped quietly back into the house. He headed to the library at the far end of the house and shut the door firmly behind him. Even in his tense state, Harry couldn't help but appreciate the sheer volume of books Hermione had stocked her home with; his favorite bookworm strikes again. Heading to the fireplace, which surprisingly had a roaring fire in it, even on a warm spring evening, Harry stared into the flames, willing the flickering light to calm his chaotic thoughts.

When the doors to the library slid open quietly, he spun round to face the unwelcome intruder. Seeing Snape regarding him suspiciously from the doors, Harry turned back to the fire and sighed heavily. He had endeavored to avoid the man the entire night, always aiming to be as far from those piercing eyes as physically possible. Draco and Remus he had shunned to a lesser extent; they were not half as astute as this man who had worked with him so closely during the war. Despite all his efforts, here they were, in a small room, and Harry was no doubt in for a barrage of questions he was not sure he could answer.

The Professor walked silently up to the savior, ignoring the slight flinch his proximity caused, and stood beside his former student, gaze fixed firmly at the flames. Without even glancing towards the other, he reached inside his voluminous robes and presented a vile of shimmering liquid to him. He was mildly surprised when Harry's hand reached out to push his hand away, silently rejecting the offer of Calming Potion.

"Don't trust my potions, Potter?" The derision in his voice was minimal, a far cry from his confrontational stance earlier.

"What did I say about that name, Severus?" whispered Harry, never once looking up from the hypnotic dancing light. Snape's face softened just a fraction and he offered the vile once more.

"You seem like you need it, Harry. " When that garnered no response from the man, Snape tried a different tactic.

"I'm sorry for my behaviour earlier in the evening. It is sometimes only too easy for me to fall back into our old relationship."

Harry nodded slightly at this, and Severus knew he was forgiven.

"Take the potion, please Harry. It will help."

Harry looked up into the eyes of the man who had let down all his walls for him. He saw the concern and the worry in those onyx eyes. He looked down at the innocent-looking vile that was still being offered to him. He gripped it gently and brought it to his lips. With Severus was watching him carefully, he poured the liquid down his throat. Immediately his mind registered the strength of the potion and he inwardly shuddered. This one was going to hurt like hell. Giving Severus a small grateful smile, Harry handed the vile back.

"Thanks. I think I'll go freshen up. Calm myself down a bit more," said Harry, hurrying to the library door and escaping into the empty hallway.

He didn't see, nor sense, Severus' eyes boring into his back, he was far too anxious to find the washroom. Finding the proper door, Harry rushed in and tore off his clothes. Stepping into the shower, he turned the water as cold as it would go. He knew from experience that the cold would numb the pain just a little. Bracing himself against the shower wall, Harry readied himself for the onslaught and it came not a moment later. The harmless calming potion he had taken not five minutes ago was forced out of his system painfully. Light blue, shimmering liquid, squeezed itself out from every pore of the man's body, searing nerves and burning his skin as it did. Biting his lip in an effort to silence his screams, Harry prayed for it to be over quickly.

Finally, twenty full minutes later, the pain stopped and Harry let out a sigh of relief. His muscles felt weak, drained. His brain pounded in his skull. Stepping gingerly out of the shower, Harry grabbed a towel the hosts for the evening had left out and dried himself off as fast as he could. He had been gone for a long time, people would surely have noticed. Wincing as he straightened out his clothes, Harry looked in the mirror and grimaced. He did not look good.

"Well, at least I took the damn potion. Now Severus has nothing to nag me about," muttered Harry softly. Hopefully, he had thrown the Slytherin off his scent. If he had, all this pain would have been worth it. Harry threw open the door and stepped out, only to be confronted by the menacing looking Slytherin himself.

--

Clutching his chest in shock and fright, Harry stepped away from the offensive figure in front of him, causing Severus to raise one eyebrow in his signature 'explain-yourself-on-pain-of-death' expression.

Laughing nervously, Harry bantered, "You scared me Severus. Don't you have better things to do than to scare helpless little Gryffindors?"

This only made the eyebrow go higher in a way that suggested, 'wrong-answer-try-again'. Harry just stared up at the taller man, putting an innocent expression on his face. Maybe it would work this time. Apparently not, as the raised eyebrow was joined with a death glare, another Severus trademark. Harry, however, was more or less immune to it, and stared back with the same, blank, innocent eyes.

Sighing heavily, Severus relented, "What were you doing in there for twenty minutes Harry? And don't tell me you were freshening up. That would not require whimpers and moans. Unless…." The Snape eyebrow went up again, only this time in amusement.

Realizing just what Severus was implying, Harry blushed furiously. That was as far from the truth as he could go, but if he wanted to think that, who was Harry to stop him?

Smiling sheepishly, Harry invited, "Let's get back to the party, it should be winding down soon."

Without waiting for a reply, Harry rushed off along the hallways, leaving Severus to follow behind, shaking his head in confusion. The boy had been a mystery back in his old Hogwarts days, now he was an enigma that just refused to be pinned down. Entering the backyard, which was the main party area, Severus saw that Harry had been wrong, the party was not winding down. In fact, it was still in full swing despite the late hour. It seemed that the high of the Dark Lord's death had yet to dissipate entirely. Harry was standing off to the side, almost in the shadows. In all appearances, he seemed to be basking in the joyous occasion, but Severus could see an undercurrent of tension running through the man. There was something else too. Fear? Severus was perplexed. What Harry had said earlier in the evening was true; there was nothing and nobody to fear here. The last Death Eater had been rounded up months ago, and the wards around the Weasley-Granger house were strong. Harry had been on edge the entire time and Severus couldn't bring himself to _not_ care about the man.

Harry seemed to come to a decision, and sought out Hermione who was exiting the house with trays of goodies floating in front of her. After a few words, there seemed to be some protests from the woman, but with Harry's pleading, the duo parted with a quick and brief hug. Heading inside the house unobtrusively, Severus realized that Harry was leaving. A quick glance at Hermione showed a look of concern etched on her face as she talked to her husband, hand gestures making it obvious that she was talking about the man who had just left. The nagging sense of worry in Severus increased, and he too quietly slipped from the party. Unlike Harry, he would not be missed.

--

Utilizing all his skills as a spy and a Slytherin, Severus followed the other man from as safe a distance as he could manage. He had trained Harry himself, and he knew just how observant the man was. There were few people on the streets this time of the night, and he used the shadows to mask his presence. Severus was shocked when Harry headed down to the Underground and boarded a train. Was Harry too worn out to apparate? Maybe he was in pain, but from what? Keeping his thoughts for later, Severus watched Harry closely, just managing to disembark the train just as Harry did, at the last minute. As they exited the station, he was further perturbed to see that Harry had become even paler and his steps, as they trekked out along the pathways, were getting slower and heavier. His alarm only increased when Harry stopped and entered a small cottage that was far from the main road that both of them had passed. It was an isolated piece of land.

What alarmed him even more was the fact that there were no wards around this small little home. In fact, Severus could not sense any magic at all. No Muggle repelling boundaries or even basic protection spells. Was this really the home of the most powerful wizard on Earth?

The worry and concern he felt for the younger man grew ten-fold and he stepped unto the porch, eager to get his answers from the man himself. Severus was suddenly struck with a strange realization. The softly glowing porch light was running off electricity; a Muggle abomination that sought to replace their lack of magic. A frown creased his features, which self-respecting wizard depended on something as unpredictable as Muggle electricity? Even the Weasley-Granger house ran off magic and the air hummed with it. But here, Severus found that there wasn't even a trace of magic. It was like entering a Muggle abode. Infinitely more alarmed now, Severus knocked on the cottage door and almost frantically reached out his senses to detect any tendrils of magic in this place. Here lived the wizard who trumped both Dumbledore and the Dark Lord in power. Surely there would be some magical residue?

Just as Severus was about to start hammering at the door, he heard a faint shuffling noise from the other side. Taking in a breath in preparation for the questions he intended to spill out, it suddenly caught in his throat. He stared at the man who was even now leaning heavily on the open door for support. In the harsh glare of the porch light, Harry looked even more sickly and pale. Severus noticed the lines etched into the young face that spoke of pain and anguish.

He was abruptly brought out of his staring by Harry. "Take a breath, Severus. I won't be able to carry you in if you faint." The wane smile on the young man's face only made him seem all the more exhausted. Letting go of the breath he hadn't realized he had held, Severus tried to frame the questions in his mind.

"I expect that you felt me following you?" he gestured, alluding to the fact that Harry wasn't in the least bit surprised that the Potions Master was on his doorstep.

Turning around and walking slowly into the house, Harry motioned for Severus to follow and follow he did, closing the door behind him. The house was small, and it was just a matter of a few steps to the sitting room, where Harry promptly lowered himself unto the couch. Seeing Harry pointedly staring at the adjacent settee, Severus sat himself down with a sigh.

"To answer your question, no, actually, I didn't. I just assumed you were coming."

At a raised eyebrow, Harry elaborated, "Since when were you actually capable of leaving me alone?"

Severus had the good grace to look a tiny bit sheepish; he had been worse than a hovering mother hen before the war, always on the savior's case to eat more, sleep more, and train more.

"I would offer you something to drink, but I'm afraid I don't have anything stronger than tea," continued Harry and Severus just shook his head. He had never really liked tea, he preferred coffee - as black as he could get it - and Harry was well aware of that. Severus stared at the man who stared right back. Increasing the pressure upward one notch with a glare only caused Harry to smirk slightly.

After ten minutes caught in a dead-lock, Severus relented again. It was becoming a habit when faced with this man.

"I'm worried about you Harry," sighed Severus.

Harry quirked up an eyebrow in a way that said, 'duh!'

Fighting his amusement and his annoyance, Severus continued, "Neither I nor your closest friends have seen you in months. Not one of us knew where you live. I find myself slightly honored that you allowed me to be the first to see your _opulent_ dwellings."

He was rewarded for his little sarcastic turn of words by a slight smile from Harry. Ah, to see him actually smile again.

"And after said many months of absence, you appear at the Weasley-Granger's door looking and acting like a scared little lion…."

"That's an oxymoron," smirked Harry.

"You shock me. I never fathomed that you knew the meaning of that word. May I continue then?" The Snape eyebrow went up again.

"As I was saying, you were tense and uptight throughout the celebrations. Your little charade may have fooled Draco – goodness knows it takes little to fool him – and the rest of your Gryffindor compatriots, but do not think that your behavior has escaped _my_ notice. Do you want me to list out all the observations I have made about you tonight?"

Harry shook his head slowly, whether in answer to his rhetorical question or to the accusations Severus had brought against him, he didn't know. Slowly, and it seemed, painfully, Harry got up from the couch and made his way out of the sitting room. Worried by the man's silence, Severus followed him down a hallway into a small bedroom at the far end of the cottage. When he saw Harry gingerly slipping himself into the bed in the middle of the room, Severus realized that he wasn't about to receive his answers.

"I'd think that you would have learnt at least some form of basic manners while you studied under me. I asked you a question and I expect an answer," he scowled. He was right; it was only too easy to fall back to being the snarky Professor with this boy.

From underneath hooded lids, big, weary and tired green eyes studied him carefully.

"I never promised you answers, Severus. I know you mean well, but I do not, and will not talk about this. Think what you want, I don't care. And the only reason I haven't kicked you out yet is because I'm too tired and I can't fight with you now when you're being stubborn. Please, Severus. Let it go." Harry's voice was soft and pleading.

Softening his countenance, Severus went over to the bed and reached out to hold the man's hand in his own.

"I can see that you are tired, and I will let you rest. But you know as well as I that I cannot let this go. Whatever _this_ is. Rest Harry, I will see you in the morning."

The jade green eyes relayed Harry's gratefulness before they closed and a small contented sigh escaped his lips. Leaving the young man to his slumber, Severus stood up and moved to exit the room. As a force of habit, Severus began to cast the typical home spells he and many other wizards used. Spells to keep the temperature of the room comfortable, spells to aid in a good night's sleep, spells that were almost second nature to all wizards and witches. Before he could properly get the incantations out however, his wand was physically wrenched from his hand by a very distraught Harry. How he had got out of bed and crossed the room to Severus' side so fast, he didn't know, especially in the weakened state he seemed to be in just a few moments before. Gaping at the shuddering young man in shock, Severus failed to comprehend the situation. Had Harry seen the wand as a threat? Did he think that Severus was going to hex him?

Harry was taking in great gulps of air as he tried to calm down his raging heart. Severus had almost used magic! Magic! In this house! Harry dreaded to think what would have happened if he hadn't felt the tell-tale signs of tingling magic that preceded an actual spell, and launched himself at the foolish man. Thank goodness he had managed to get the wand away from him. The wand? He was still holding it! The wand that had been clasped tightly in his hand was hurriedly dropped and Harry skittered back, getting far away from it.

The sudden movement shocked Severus out of his daze and his anger finally caught up with his brain.

"What do you think you're doing, Potter?" Severus was angry. Angry that he had been startled to relinquish his wand. And Harry's increasingly weird behavior only served to vex him further.

Instead of the defensive answer he had predicted, Harry burst out in a fury, "What am _I_ doing? What are _you_ doing? This is _my_ house! You don't cast spells in someone else's house! Why would you do that? Did I tell you that you could do that?"

Despite his fatigue, Harry was shouting at the top of his voice and glaring angrily at the other man. This shocked Severus yet again; two shocks in as just as many minutes. This situation was starting to give him a headache.

Changing tactic, Severus sighed, "I'm sorry, Harry. I didn't know I wasn't supposed to even cast a simple cooling charm over the room. I should have asked. It is your house."

And just like that, Harry's anger deflated, leaving the man as weak and tired as before. Dragging himself to the bed, he sat on it and placed his head in his hands.

"I'm sorry Severus. I know you were just trying to help. I'm just a little on edge at the moment."

Severus nodded slowly. Harry couldn't see the other man, but he knew his apology was accepted.

"Why don't you stay in the next room Sev? It's late, and you no doubt want to mother around some more before you're satisfied. Just promise me this one thing. No magic. At all. No cooling charms. No drying charms. No privacy charms. No security charms. No Lumos, even. No magic at all ok? Wandless too. Please, just promise me this? And don't ask why. Please just don't ask."

At this, Harry raised his head to show Severus the sincerity in his eyes. Unable to deny a request laced with such earnestness, Severus only nodded. Seemingly satisfied with this, Harry slipped under the covers once again and seemed to drift off into sleep immediately. Exiting the room silently, Severus headed to the bedroom mentioned by Harry and sat on the bed, the tension and adrenalin of the situation finally letting him go, leaving him drained. Reaching over to place his wand under his pillow, Severus decided against it and placed his wand in the drawer of the bedside table instead; less temptation that way. Even though Harry couldn't possibly know if he had done any magic, considering he was in the next room, fast asleep, Severus was reluctant to break the promise he had made to the man. Lying back unto the bed, Severus decided that for tonight, he would trust Harry and tomorrow, he would unravel the mystery and get his answers. With that decided Severus closed his eyes and drifted off in an uncomfortable sleep.

* * *

Author's Note: This chapter is kinda longer than the other two, and it shows just how 'broken' Harry is. He's hiding a lot of secrets, and Severus will def try to get to the bottom of all of them. On another note, Padawan Jan-AQ brought up a good point; I didnt really say if this was a slash or gen story. I have the main storyline and action all down, but I'm still not sure about the relationship Sev and Harry should have. I've never written a proper slash fic before. But I'm currently writing a critical chapter that will decide their future relationship, so I'll probably update the slash/gen thing next week. Thanks for reading! :)


	4. Chapter 3 A Gryffindor Home

Chapter 3 – A Gryffindor Home

Severus awoke the next morning to the smells of home and heaven. The tempting aroma of sausage, eggs and something baked and buttery filled his senses and provided him with a stark relief from his troubling dreams. It took the former spy all of two seconds for his brain to catch up with the situation, and when he did, he reached under the pillow for his wand. Frowning, he realized he had kept it in the bedside table and reached over to retrieve it. Now what? He couldn't cast a freshening charm. He had no doubt that Harry's plea was meant for the duration of his stay. Sighing, Severus made to exit the room, to find that Harry had hung some clothes behind the door. He sneered at the somewhat too small Muggle clothing but took them anyway. At least they were black.

Opening the door, he was confronted with the washroom right opposite and he quickly changed and did his morning ablutions as best as he could with the Muggle appliances Harry had left out. The questions from last night started spinning around in his head again, and Severus tried to order his thoughts. There were so many questions. Why was Harry looking so pale? Why had he been so nervous at the party the night before? Where was the magic in this house? And what of that bathroom incident at the Weasley-Granger house?

Sighing, Severus reined his thoughts and emotions and fixed them firmly behind his strongest Occlumency shields. Harry looked distraught enough without him adding his own inner turmoil to it. Heading towards the delicious smells, Severus found himself in a bright and airy kitchen and the man in question was happily grilling sausages at the stove. It took him a moment to realize what was so funny about the scene; Harry was doing everything the Muggle way. Yet another puzzle to add to the rest. Shaking his head slightly, Severus made his presence known by gently knocking on the swinging kitchen door. Harry was slightly startled, but recovered quickly and gave his surprise guest a welcoming smile. Harry had always been the morning person out of the two of them.

Gesturing for the older man to take a seat, Harry set the sausages on a plate and reached into the oven to bring out a tray of freshly baked scones. Blueberry scones to be exact. Despite himself, the Potions Master's mouth began to water. This man knew all his weaknesses, it was alarming. Harry placed the tantalizing scones on the table between them and sat down happily opposite the dour Potions Master. As the younger man started heaping his plate with food, Severus snapped out of his amazement and decided not to comment on the utter domesticity of the situation. Reaching for his cup, he was surprised to find strong black coffee in it. Now, either Harry had lied last night about not having coffee, or he had gotten it just for his picky guest. Severus didn't know which. As he was biting into his first delicious scone, a thought struck the man. He looked up at Harry.

"Do you mean to tell me that all the times when you brought over those scones for our training sessions, you had actually baked them?"

"Why? Did you think I bought them?" a cheekily raised eyebrow here. "I'm quite talented in the kitchen, if I do say so myself. After I deciphered that you had a weakness for these things, I baked them as often as I could. It seemed to brighten your mood by a miniscule fraction." Harry was grinning wryly at his breakfast partner, causing said partner to scowl. If you looked really closely, you could see the hint of amusement in his onyx eyes.

The amusement however, dimmed fast as he took in Harry's demeanor. The bright, sunny disposition totally contradicted the tense and panicked behavior of last night. Severus was, at best, a surprise guest, but he knew he was more of an irritating problem to the man opposite. But here he was, being treated like an honored member of the household. The change was startling. And perplexing.

As if sensing his inner turmoil, which was probably the case, Harry commented, "I was planning to do some gardening today, and I don't want to put it off. You're welcome to stay, though you won't find much to do here."

Rising to put the dishes in the special-looking drawer, - an appliance to wash dishes, if Severus was not mistaken – Harry cleared the mess and proceeded outside into the calming morning sunshine. Unsure of what to do, Severus followed him out into the backyard. In contrast to the inside, the actual property was large. There was indeed a garden, and it was well cared for, to the man's critical eyes. There was a low stone wall that served to cordon of the property, and it was a good kilometer away. Taking up the majority of the scenery was an ancient willow tree that reminded Severus of the Whomping Willow, though this particular specimen seemed to only sway gently in the breeze. Harry was on his knees in what looked like a rose bed, with a broad straw hat on his head and a basket at his side. This scene, coupled with the happy, jolly breakfast he had just finished, seemed too much out of the realm of normalcy for Severus, and he collapsed – gracefully – into a nice wicker chair on the back verandah.

Now it was time to sort this puzzle out. First, he laid out all the facts in his mind. Harry had not been seen by his friends, or the nosy public for at least three months, and it was probably longer than that. Harry had been in contact with a few of his friends, including the Weasleys, Draco and Remus, and occasionally Severus, but all he ever cared to indulge was that he was 'fine' and he just wanted some 'peace and quiet'. From what he could glean at the party, it had taken a lot of cajoling to get Harry to come, and when he did turn up, he had been incredibly reluctant. Then there was the constant jumping at noises, the flinching, the wary eyes and defensive stance. The others probably hadn't noticed – they were all blinded by their faith and friendship – but Severus could. He had watched him from the shadows and throughout the night. Then there was the hesitance over the Calming Potion. Harry had always trusted his potions, in fact, in the later part of the war Harry had refused to take any potion not brewed by Severus himself. And then there was the hasty retreat to the washroom, where Severus had heard highly dubious sounds. Top that all off with the lack of magic both around the house and around the man himself, and the Slytherin had one giant puzzle box that refused to be sorted out.

--

Harry was uncomfortably aware that the gaze of the Potions Master was fixed firmly on him and even though he couldn't see it, he knew that the man's brow was creased with intensity and that it was accompanied by an equally intense scowl. Harry had woken up this morning fully aware of the problems Severus posed to his self-imposed retreat from the world. He also knew that any and all of his secrets were in danger of being exposed to this man. For one fleeting moment, he had toyed with the idea of spilling everything and letting him help shoulder the burden of responsibility. That thought however, was dismissed as soon as reality hit him. Preparing breakfast and going about his daily chores, Harry had decided to let all those thoughts and worries go and go about the day like he had planned. He wasn't going to help the man figure anything out, but if he tried to lie and cover up for his actions, Severus would definitely notice.

And so he tended to his garden for most of the morning, only stopping when the sun was high in the sky and the heat became too much to bear. Carrying a basket of freshly cute daisies into the house, Harry stopped and commented to the brooding man in the chair, "You should get some sun Severus, or those rumors about you being a vampire will never stop."

It seemed the man had been deep in thought, and the sound of Harry's voice had startled him slightly. When Harry's words registered, a sneer replaced the scowl on his face.

"And what makes you think it's a rumor?"

Laughing lightly, Harry headed inside to wash up. He prepared a light lunch for two which he brought out to the verandah where Severus was still lounging.

"Don't you ever do anything useful, Sev?" teased Harry.

"I am doing something extremely useful; thinking. I know it is a hard concept for you to grasp since you have never done it before. You should try it."

"Oh, I do think, Sev. But unlike you, I have this amazing ability to multi-task; I can think and do other stuff at the same time. I don't really need to vegetate."

"Brat."

"Take out the 'r' and you've just described yourself, Sev."

Severus scowled but Harry could see that he was amused. Few ever dared to tease him this way, but he actually managed to enjoy the teasing from Harry; he never dared to wonder why. Meanwhile, Harry was basking in the joy of a simple conversation. He hadn't realized just how much he had missed having someone to talk to. Here was a man he trusted, with his life if not his secrets, and there were no loaded questions or sly attempts to pry information from him. Harry was very grateful for that.

--

As the day wore on, Harry continued on with his household chores, always aware that he was no longer alone in his sanctuary but getting more and more comfortable with the fact. Dinner passed without incident, and the companionable chatter seemed to liven up the atmosphere. As night descended, the two found themselves relaxing in front of the fireplace in the sitting room; Harry with a favorite thriller novel of his and Severus staring into the flames, deep in thought.

As the small clock in the room chimed nine, Severus made a decision to start the conversation he had been wanting to all along. Harry, noticing the other man's silent preparation, sighed and put down his book.

"Please don't start this now, Severus. We've gotten through the day just fine, let's not spoil the night ok?"

Severus made to speak but was stopped by a swift hand gesture from Harry.

"I know what you're going to ask, Sev. But please don't. I have secrets of my own to keep, and I do not wish to share them with anyone."

"Don't you trust me Harry?"

"I do trust you. With my life. You know that. If I didn't trust you, you wouldn't be here right now. I trust you enough to keep the promise you made last night. But I just won't talk about this to anyone. Please Sev, let it go."

"Harry, you know I cannot do that. Merlin only knows why, but I am concerned about your well-being, and your state of mind. You've never really had time to deal with the attack…."

Harry shot to his feet his eyes were ablaze, "Don't mention that in front of me! Don't even think about it! I've gone through enough without you opening the wound again!"

Getting to his feet, Severus responded with his own fire, "But that's just the problem isn't it? The wound isn't closed! You ignore it. But it is still there. And it will remain there until you can come out and deal with it!"

During his tirade, Severus had stalked towards the younger man, unconsciously using his height to intimidate and dominate, but he stopped when he saw the fear clearly etched in the expressive green eyes. Harry was cowering and shuddering, drawing away from him even after the blatant declaration of trust. Severus backed away, berating himself for his foolishness. He had meant to get answers, not make matters worse, however unintentionally. Now everything made sense. The flinching and the tension that was so apparent in the young savior now had a reason. A dark and horrendous reason.

Severus wondered how they had missed this. Severus wondered how _he_ could have missed this. He cared for Harry - that was a surprising yet accepted fact - and being as astute as he liked to claim himself to be, he should have seen the signs before anyone else.

When Harry had been taken captive during a Death Eater raid on the Burrow, Severus had already been revealed as a spy. He had no way of knowing where they took the man, nor whether he was even still alive. The worry had eaten into the frigid Potions Master and it was after he had destroyed his office in frustration of his own helplessness that he had realized just how much Harry meant to him. He had long looked past his hatred of James Potter to see the unique man underneath it all. They had made an unspoken vow during their numerous training sessions; they had formed a tentative but unbreakable bond that had tided them through the worst of the war.

But he, and everyone else, had forgotten about the capture - and the usual consequences of being held captive by Death Eaters - in light of the overwhelming joy of the Dark Lord's defeat. While the order had been frantically trying to coordinate a desperate rescue mission for Harry, he had, in true Savior form, defeated the Dark Lord single-handedly, bringing many Death Eaters along as well. The eight days of certain torture and pain Harry had gone through was conveniently forgotten in favor of a raucous celebration.

When Harry had apparated directly into Grimauld Place, weary and bloody, but alive and with a smile on his face, Severus had been relieved and furious at the same time. Here he was, imagining that the man was broken and near death in some cold dungeon cell, and the man in question had the audacity to arrive and grin at him!

"He's dead." The Man-Who-Lived was grinning furiously at everyone.

The words had hit Severus like a sledgehammer. Feeling like he was caught in a trance, Severus pulled up the left sleeve of his robe and stared down at his scarred arm. The Dark Mark. It was gone. No, not gone. His fingertips traced the very fine and faint lines he still bore, but the darkness and the blackness were indeed gone. The Dark Lord was dead. Dead. And all he was left with was a deserved souvenir of remembrance of the greatest mistake of his life.

He looked up at the man he had come to call a friend, who was still grinning in amusement. Severus' head was spinning and he was so very confused. But that was swiftly erased by Harry's sudden and unexpected collapse unto the hard wooden floor.

After that, the obviously uncoordinated attacks by lone and small groups of Death Eaters and the voluntary surrender of some of Voldemort's loyal followers confirmed Harry's words without a doubt. Even when the man himself was in a magical coma for weeks. The aftermath had been so hectic…………

The soft sound of a bedroom door closing in the frigid silence startled Severus out of his reverie. He looked around the sitting room in confusion. Harry had crept from the room while he was having his flashback. Cursing silently at his selfish behavior, the Potions Master went up the staircase, and was about to knock on Harry's door when he thought better of it. Harry needed space. Since Severus had thus far been nothing but an insensitive prick – and he could willingly admit it – he would put aside his need for answers and let Harry have his space. He had done enough damage as it was.

* * *

Author's Note:

I know this chapter is kinda short, but it felt right to end there. The next chapter should be up soon, since I'm actually done with it. But it's rather dry, so I'm sprucing it up. (: And like I promised, I have decided on Harry and Sev's relationship. Sorry for all those Snarry lovers out there (like me!), but this won't be slash. It just felt better the way it is now (can't tell you cos that will be spoiling the surprise!). Harry may still find romance in this fic, but it will probably be quiet and not distract from the Sev/Harry main action. Hope you liked this chapter. Thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 4 Settling a Routine

Chapter 4 – Settling a Routine

It was Harry's turn the next morning to wake up to the heavenly smells of a home cooked breakfast. His eyes were red and puffy from all the crying he had done the night before, but all in all, he felt a lot better. Feeling almost chirpy after a quick shower, Harry followed his nose and padded his way to the kitchen.

The scene that greeted him was eerily similar to the morning before, except that Harry and Severus had somehow exchanged positions. Just as Harry had done, Severus gestured for the younger man to seat and heaped sausages unto their waiting plates. Instead of blueberry scones, Severus produced a reheated casserole. Harry was slightly surprised that Severus could cook without using magic, but then again, Severus was a man of many talents. Silently, the two men dug into their breakfast, neither in a particular hurry to address the drama of last night.

As Harry finished his meal and started gathering the plates to have them washed, he was surprised to hear a soft murmur from Severus.

"I'm sorry."

Harry's eyes met Severus and he saw the sincerity and regret in the usually emotionless eyes. His heart soared.

"You're forgiven." Harry smiled slightly.

This time, Severus was the one surprised. Was he really so readily forgiven? The look in Harry's eyes seemed to say that he was. A flash of guilt flashed across the Potions Master's face. He didn't deserve to be forgiven so easily. He was a selfish git. He could admit that, at least to himself.

Hesitatingly, Severus questioned, "Do we need to talk about this?"

Staring hard at the tabletop, as his hands worried themselves, Harry whispered, "Do you understand why?"

He meant the flinching. The aversion to touch or presence. Severus knew this.

"Yes. I can assume."

"Then we don't need to talk." Harry turned away, heading outside into the morning sunshine.

"I won't be leaving."

Harry stopped and his shoulders drooped ever so slightly.

"We don't need to talk about that either."

A silent agreement was thus made. Just like the equally silent pledge of comradeship they had made so long ago. Severus would not leave. Harry would not push him away. The rest of the rules were negotiable.

--

As evening crept in, Severus was sitting stoically in a comfortable chair in his room, looking out the window at the blooming garden. He had not moved from that position since after the light lunch Harry had prepared. The Slytherin was trying to figure out the best way to approach the situation he had gotten himself in. He was no counselor, Professor McGonagall held that title at Hogwarts, but at least he had the best understanding of what Harry had been through. He had been a Death Eater, and he knew that there were standard ways to treat a prisoner. He also knew the non-standard ways. The cruelest and the harshest, Severus had even witnessed, and regrettably, taken part in. It had sickened him to the stomach, but he had done it.

"To think that Harry had gone through that….." Severus shuddered.

He needed to help the man. No one, and especially not Harry, deserved to be treated like that. He was going to figure out how to go about this Gryffindor-ish mission of saving Harry, even if it killed him.

Sighing heavily and stretching his aching body, Severus decided to start a little dinner. He knew he wasn't obliged, but Harry had been working in the garden the whole day, and it eased his conscience of being an unwelcome guest to such a gracious host. However, his plans were hurriedly dashed when he neared the kitchen only to smell the heavenly aroma of grilled meat. Harry was contentedly bustling around the kitchen; the routine of making a delicious meal was made ever so much enjoyable when there was someone else to share the food with. Smiling inwardly, Severus picked up a knife and started preparing a salad to go with the steak. If Harry was surprised, he did not show it and seemed to accept the other man's help willingly. They worked in a companionable silence that continued on into the meal itself.

When the washing up was done, both men retired to the sitting room, falling back into the scene of the evening before. This time though, Severus joined Harry on the main couch, instead of the wing-back chair he had up till now favored. When Severus sat down, on the other end of the couch, he noticed that Harry's eyes flicked to him momentarily. Shifting little by little, Severus watched Harry's reaction intently. Just as Harry seemed to go rigid with the unwelcome proximity, Severus stopped. Settling down comfortably, he stared into the fire, ignoring the man who was now tense and clearly feeling threatened, however unconsciously.

After a long while, when Severus did not seem inclined to move, whether away from him or towards him, Harry started to relax and turned back to the book he held in his hands. Severus knew that Harry wasn't completely comfortable yet, as his posture was still slightly tensed for flight, but it was an improvement. After waiting another quarter of an hour, Severus decided that it was safe to speak.

In as soft and soothing a voice as he could manage Severus commented, "I need to go back to the Manor to collect some clothes and other essentials. I don't think I can stand another day in these disgusting Muggle clothes."

Severus felt, more than saw, Harry's grin.

"Yes, kinda hard to be a big greasy bat without your billowing robes and a house filled with sunshine and daisies."

Harry grinned wider at Severus' responding 'scowl of amusement'. Contradictory in terms, but the man had perfected it.

The rest of the night passed in comfortable companionship and Harry seemed not to notice the closeness of the other man anymore, and this gave Severus hope. His mission of 'Saving Harry' was well under way.

--

"Severus…"

The Potions Master looked up from his hearty breakfast to look quizzically at the man across from him.

"Umm… How are you getting to your Manor?"

Harry was referring to Snape Manor, Severus' family home. As far as he knew, it was a place far far away from Harry's current abode.

"Apparating of course. It is not within walking distance, Harry." The man's sardonically raised eyebrow suggested that this should have been obvious.

Blushing slightly, Harry hesitated before speaking.

"Can you… can you go down the road to apparate? Like, far down the road. Far far down the road. Maybe the village?"

"The village?" The village in question was quite a way away from here. Severus remembered that it had taken them a good twenty minute walk to get to the house on the first night he had arrived here.

But it seemed Harry was serious by the sheepish but determined nod that followed Severus' question. Ah, here it was again. The aversion to magic. Severus had put that aside for awhile; intent on dealing with the more pressing problems, but here it was again. Frowning slightly, but intent on keeping his promise, Severus gave Harry an answering nod of agreement. The relief and gratitude that shined from the man's eyes confirmed that he had made the right decision.

--

When Severus arrived at the foyer of his stately house, he shuddered. It was an old place; full of dark objects and even darker memories. It had never been his home, but he had lived at Snape Manor all these years for a lack of a better dwelling. As he traveled through shadowed corridors and passed sneering portraits, the lord of the house could not help but compare the deafening silence and oppression here to the comfortable peace and quiet companionship he had come to appreciate at Harry's. There would be no smiles or laughter within these halls.

As he packed his belongings carefully into a trunk, Severus realized that in a few days, he had become more attached to Harry's little cottage than he ever had been to the musty old manor. It was unlike Severus to be sentimental, but just this once, he allowed himself to recognize his feelings towards the man. He had never been good with feelings - they had been pummeled out of him when he was a kid by his father – and now he was at a lost when he tried to define them. He could discern concern and compassion among the confusing mess but the rest of the subtler emotions were lost to him. Maybe he would never figure them out properly, but Severus knew that these unknown emotions were the driving forces behind his desire to get back to Harry and the reason why he was so reluctant to break the promise he had made.

When he had done all he came to do, Severus stood in the foyer silently contemplating the house that had never been a home. There was no real business to take care of. The house elves had been dismissed long ago, when Severus first became master of the place. The fireplaces had also been disconnected from the Floo Network; a safety concern of a paranoid spy. All the rooms were locked up and there was nothing to drag him back. Severus walked out of Snape Manor for the last time; he had decided that no matter what happened with Harry, he would not be returning to this place. As he threw a spell of dormancy over the brooding manor, Severus whispered softly to himself.

"Goodbye, Father."

--

A comfortable routine developed as Severus settled into Harry's life. Meals were always shared, and so were the cooking duties, on most days. After breakfast, the two would part to pursue whatever activities they had planned for the day. Harry's mainly consisted of household chores and the occasional disappearance to an unknown location. On these occasions, Harry would leave early in the morning, and only return home late in the evening. Severus never tried to pry into those private moments that Harry sought out; it was not his place. Severus himself took to the research he had started after leaving his teaching job at Hogwarts. He would go to Hogwarts to pour over his books – he was hesitant to keep the potions books at Harry's for they all carried some sort of magic in their spines – or he would apparate to whatever magical library that had the books he required. He had tried to offer to help with the household chores, but Harry would hear none of it. After many vehement refusals on Harry's part, Severus finally realized that doing the chores was a source of calming peace for the other man and he never asked again.

After their day was over though, Severus and Harry would always find themselves settling themselves in the sitting room, a cozy fire burning merrily away in the fireplace; the nights in the country were cold. Unknown to the other, these times of quiet companionship were the moments cherished most by each of them. Harry would settle on the couch, legs curled under him and with a good book in his hands. Severus would be with a novel, or a particularly engaging Muggle medical journal. These were also the moments when Severus's mission to 'Save Harry' came into full force. Every evening would find Severus edging closer and closer to the man on the couch. He would go as far as Harry would allow without flinching violently and then settle down to read his book. Severus knew that he had to get Harry used to close human interaction before he could do anything else.

Another part of his mission involved small touches through-out the day, and this required an added drive on Severus' part. He had never been a tactile man, preferring to keep his own personal space and loathing anyone who intruded upon it, but as he had learnt from afternoons studying various psychology books, getting a victim used to innocent touches was a critical first step. He never told Harry but not all his time was spent researching potions. The venerable Potions Master would often find himself at Muggle libraries, snapping up any book he could find that might contain clues to helping the Savior of the wizarding world become people-friendly again. And so Severus found himself consciously initiating gentle contact with Harry. He would softly touch his hand when thanking him for breakfast this morning. Or he would delicately brush past him when passing each other in the hallway.

At first, Harry's reactions bordered on violent. He would yank his hand back from the touch, or shudder violently when gently tapped on the shoulder. This made Severus wonder all the more how Harry had survived the fateful party at the Weasleys'. It must have taken a tremendous effort to appear 'normal' when faced with a veritable crowd of well-wishers. After a while though, the reactions became less violent and sometimes Harry would even give him a small smile at his gentleness. They had never had a verbal conversation on what Severus was actually trying to do, but when their eyes met, there was a silent agreement between them. It seemed that no words were ever needed in their relationship; whatever that relationship was.

So every evening, Harry and Severus would seclude themselves in the sitting room, shutting out the outside world and basking in the mutual affection that radiated from each of them in those silent moments. Each would lose themselves in their thoughts, staring into the warm flames. Harry would ruminate on the contentment and happiness he felt now that he had someone who knew at least some of his burden. He never realized how lonely he was, living isolated from anyone and everyone, until he found someone living with him. He enjoyed the other man's calm presence and he was overcome with appreciation for the efforts the usually stoic man had made to try to help Harry over the many obstacles to recovery. The small touches and the non-threatening intrusions into his 'bubble' went far in reducing his paranoia and loosening the constant tension he usually felt in another's presence.

Severus, in his own thoughts, also pondered on the contentment and happiness _he_ felt. He had never been one for happiness. He didn't really believe in it. And contentment to him had been those rare times when Voldemort hadn't summoned and he had nothing to do for that meddlesome Dumbledore. He loved the old coot, but sometimes he did get tired of all his 'help'. It was those rare moments when Severus had no duties to be done for either master that he defined as contentment. And now Severus had a new definition. Having pleasant and trusted company to lighten his hours. Having somewhere to call home, somewhere he would want to return to at the end of the day. Reading and researching in front of the fire knowing that the man in the kitchen cooking a light dinner cared for him, and that the feeling was reciprocated. This was happiness. For the both of them.


	6. Chapter 5 Trusting Severus

Chapter 5 – Trusting Severus

"I'm worried about Harry."

The worry and concern in Hermione's voice was palpable.

"I know Herm, I am too. How long has it been since the party? A month?" Ron too was worried for his best friend.

"More like two. We haven't heard a peep from him since then."

"He did leave rather abruptly didn't he? And all that tension. The guy was more tightly strung than a harp string."

"You noticed that too?" Hermione loved her husband to bits, but sometimes he could be very thick.

Raising a sardonic eyebrow at his wife, who blushed furiously. Ron admitted, "Well, I am not _that_ thick you know. And Harry's been our friend for what? Almost a decade now. I'd have to be a troll not to notice something's wrong with our friend, Hermy."

Hugging her husband tightly, Hermione gave him a kiss of apology.

"I know hon. You're definitely not a troll. So we agree that Harry is having problems of some kind. How do we find out what it is? You know he's secretive about these kinds of things."

"That's going to be the biggest hurdle. Remember his nightmares?"

Ron was referring to the Voldemort-induced nightmares that started after the Dark Lord's resurrection. Harry had hidden the pain and his scream from them for years. Ron had been sleeping in the same room with him and he had never known until later.

"I remember. Do you think Draco knows something? Harry _is_ more comfortable talking to Draco about the Voldemort stuff."

"I'm not sure. But it's worth a shot. Neither of us will get any sleep until we know Harry's ok."

"You mean _I_ won't get any sleep. You'll sleep through a tornado Ronald Weasley."

"What do you mean? I will not sleep, nor rest till I know Harry is safe!" The mock indignation on her husband's face made Hermione smile. Ron was worried about Harry just as much as she was, but his way of dealing with it would be to sleep it off or eat it of; whichever was more convenient at the time.

"You Floo Draco to come over, he won't be asleep this early. I'll go prepare a light supper."

"You see? That's why I married you."

Ron quickly ducked the cushion that was aimed at his head.

--

"So you two finally figured out that something was up huh?"

The smirk on Draco's face abruptly changed into a scowl when Hermione smacked him up his head.

"No smart ass comments, Draco Malfoy. Now, what do you know?"

"Bloody hell. Ron, you better get reel your wife in a bit. She's bloody violent." Draco leveled a glare at Hermione that earned him another smack on the head.

Laughing, Ron ventured to save his friend from further torture, "My advice is to just do as she says. Lesser chance of messing up your precious hairstyle then."

Eyes agape in mock panic, Draco hurriedly began checking his hair in a pocket mirror he always carried out with him. His vanity had always been a victim of gentle teasing from the rest of the world.

Finally settling down, Draco's expression took on one of seriousness. They were here to talk about Harry. And if there was once thing the three had in common, it was their love for the Savior of the wizarding world.

"I don't know where he is, but I think I know who does." Putting his hand out to forestall Ron's outburst, Draco continued, "Before you ask the obvious question, I'll tell you. I think Severus knows. He's been rather reclusive lately. And when I went to his Manor a month ago for a social call, the place was locked down tight. He hasn't been there in awhile I think."

Hermione looked thoughtful. Severus Snape. The former bane of Harry's existence. The man who had turned into Harry's biggest lifeline during the war. It seemed more than plausible to her that Harry had chosen to confide in the man before anyone else. Maybe it _was_ Voldemort related, and who better to talk to than a former Death Eater? Add to that Harry unshakable trust in the man, and you had a perfect match.

"Now that I think about it, Severus left the party not soon after Harry, didn't he? He just upped and disappeared. Maybe they're together somewhere. I mean, the two are kinda close."

Ron's revelation was met with two surprised faces this time.

"I am not a troll! If you look at me like that one more time, Hermione Granger……"

"Oh, I'm sorry hon. I know you're not a troll. Far from it, in fact. I just never really knew how sensitive and intelligent my stud of a husband was. Don't pout, I promise I'll make it up to you tonight." Ron's face lit up like a spotlight.

"Ewww…. Gross! Save me the imagery. If I remember correctly, we were talking about Harry and Severus. not your love life. Let's get back on topic shall we? I actually met Severus last week, at the Magical Library in London."

Tearing his eyes away from ogling his wife, Ron asked, "Did you ask him about Harry? Was he hiding something? Did he seem to very secretive or the like?"

"You mean more secretive than usual? Maybe. I did ask him, though. He said that Harry was fine, and that he was staying with him for awhile. For some reason, he refused to say where exactly. I wonder where they're hiding. And why does Sev need to be so clamped up about it? He knows we worry about the Boy Wonder."

"The real question is who is actually keeping secrets. Harry or Severus? Maybe Severus is just keeping quiet because Harry asked him to."

"You have a point Hermione," Draco paused and raised his eyebrows cryptically, "This is just speculation here, so don't go and kill me over it, but do you think they could be together?"

"Together?" Both Ron and Hermione looked at him incredulously.

"I know they're together. I was thinking more along the lines of '_together_' together, as in a couple kind of together."

"That's insane! That's just not possible! No way!"

"Is it just as impossible as me and Ginny were?" Draco raised his eyebrow at the excited Ron, who deflated.

"Point taken. Never in a million years, or a million nightmares would I have thought it possible that you would marry my sister. And make her happy."

Draco's mirth disappeared only to be replaced by sadness. "I hope I did. I loved your sister; you know that right, Ron? I still love her. And I miss her."

"I know, Draco. You made her very happy, I know that. She really loved you. And we all miss her," Ron said, a gentle smile on his face.

Draco nodded solemnly. Ginny Malfoy had been a casualty in the war. Ginny had been killed by Death Eaters late in the war during an attack on the Burrow. The loss had hit everyone hard, but Draco had been especially devastated. He had had only a few precious months with her as his wife. It was Draco's deepest regret that he had not gotten to the Burrow in time to save the love of his life.

Talking about the people they had lost in the war was hard. So many good people had been lost. The Weasley family had suffered the most. In the Burrow attack, they had lost Ginny, Molly and Arthur. The two Weasley family patriarchs had died protecting their daughter. Draco found it a wonder that Ron managed to rebuild his life and carry on living; he guessed that it was largely due to Hermione's love and support. The war had also robbed them of Sirius Black, Mad-Eye Moody and Dumbledore. The loss had hit them hard, but now, two years on, the pain was just starting to become bearable. Time could not heal the wounds, but it could dull the pain.

"We lost a lot of good people, didn't we?" Hermione sad in a voice that was laden with despair and sadness.

"Yes we did," Draco agreed.

There was a long moment of silence. These moments of remembrance were important to all of them. They had all been at the forefront of the war, and they had lived through the horror of seeing a loved one die. These moments crept up on them when they least expected it, but being together helped. The trio was lost in their own memories, and their loved ones. It was a solemn, depressing time. So it was a long while before Ron finally broke the silence.

"I think Harry and Severus make a very cute couple," Ron joked.

"Way to go Weasley. You just won the Randomest Comment of the Century award," Draco drawled, but the relief was palpable in his voice. The tense, sad moment was gone. They would never forget the dead, but now they had the living to worry about. Harry.

Laughing softly, Hermione added, "I think they're cute too. They suit each other. If Harry really is with Severus, then we don't have anything to worry about. Severus will know how to deal with any problems Harry can come up with. I trust him. So Harry should be ok. But I want to know for certain." Hermione looked pensive for a moment. "I think we should track them down. I just want to make sure Harry's ok."

"Brilliant idea, love. So Malfoy, up for a brave, foolish, foolhardy and purely Gryffindor adventure?" Ron was striking his best proud lion pose.

"No, but I'm up for a cunning, sly, devious and dastardly exploit that is truly Slytherin."

Draco paused.

"Maybe a tiny dash of Gryffindor stupidity thrown in to make you two happy."

This time, it was two hands that connected with the back of Malfoy's head.

--

"Severus, I need to go to the village, we're running low on food."

Severus looked up from his book at the dirt covered man who was just coming in from a morning spent gardening.

"Well, you had better change that outfit. I do not think the villagers will appreciate you looking like something akin to a pig."

Harry childishly stuck his tongue at the man and headed inside to change. Just as Harry was about to leave, he was mildly surprised to find Severus waiting for him on the front porch, carrying the basket Harry normally brought along on these shopping excursions. Seeing Harry's question in his eyes, Severus raised his eyebrow in a 'you-should-have-known-better' way. Harry grinned at him and they set off down the road side by side.

--

When the two men arrived home after their trip, Harry went to organize the purchases while Severus decided to retire to his room to think. During the short and uneventful trip to the village Severus was quick to notice the tension that built up in Harry as they encountered the crowds. The villagers seemed to know Harry well, and regarded him with a polite curiosity due to his reclusive manner. They greeted him by name and would often stop for a small chat. Harry seemed to accept these meetings with a quiet ease and the tension in him did not escalate beyond an acute sense of awareness of the proximity of others. Severus realized that although Harry was more than comfortable with his presence in and around the house, he wasn't as confident in the presence of others. Severus had read that seclusion, though common for many victims of abuse, was not the healthiest way to heal. Harry needed to get used to being around people; many more people and especially those he did not trust as explicitly as he did Severus. The casual touches and the innocent hugs could only do so much good in the long run.

And so that evening, Severus brought up the idea that had been churning in him for quite a while now. After so many months of slow adjustment, Severus and Harry were now sitting flush against each other on the big comfy couch in front of the fire. It had taken Harry an extra long while to get used to being in such close contact, but now he was used to it, and even felt comforted by it. On this particular night, Harry almost snuggled into Severus' side, his face buried intently in a Muggle romance novel. Severus decided to take a risk and carefully placed his arm over Harry. Harry started and looked up in alarm at Severus and met with a calm and inviting gaze. Slowly, ever so slowly, Harry relaxed into the friendly embrace. Severus felt a clear moment of triumph, and smiled softly at the other man.

"Harry, I want to ask you a question," Severus started.

Harry only hummed contentedly and placed his book on his lap.

"I was wondering if you would like to go hiking with me."

Harry's face scrunched up in bewilderment. "Hiking? Why? Never thought you'd like hiking."

"It is good exercise. And you need to get out of this place more often."

Seeing Harry's hesitation, Severus hastened to change his mind.

"There won't be many people there. We'll maybe come across another hiker or too. But it will be good for you. You are too comfortable in this house, Harry."

Long moments passed as Harry stared into the flickering flames, as he often did when he needed to sort out his thoughts. His mind was a swirl of emotions. He understood the truth of Severus' words, but he did not want to admit them. He knew that he was becoming too dependant on his solitude in this haven. Part of him wanted to thank Severus for being so kind and patient, and for offering to help him. But another part wanted to rail and rave at the other man for trying to wrench him out of his comfort zone. People still frightened him. There had been so many. Too many to count. All touching him. All hurting him. But they never held him. Not like this. Never with this gentleness and never with innocent intentions. Feeling the warmth and security of the arm that held him, and the body that he had nestled up against, Harry decided that he would listen to the other man. He wanted to be able to feel like this all the time. Safe and protected. He wanted the tension and the fear to go away. He wanted to see his friends again. He wanted to hug Ron, and Hermione, and Draco and Remus.

Looking up into the eyes of the man he trusted with his very soul, Harry smiled softly and whispered.

"I trust you, Sev."

* * *

Author's Note:

I posted two chapters at one go! Not really a big achievement, but, oh well! I really think that Chapter 4 is really dry (like the prologue… sighs) but to me, it needed to be there and I just couldn't seem to liven it up anymore. So I decided that maybe adding Chapter 5 at the same time would help. I'm still kinda awkward with the chaptering thing, I just split the story up 'when it feels right'. If it were up to me, it'd be one long long long story with lots of action breaks. Oh well. Thanks for reading!

Added note: This is the edited version of chapter 5! Sorry about the mix up, you guys!


	7. Chapter 6 Promises Made

Chapter 6 – Promises Made

The fresh mountain breeze rushed past him as he slowly made his ascent to the peak and Harry could not have been happier. It was already late afternoon, and they had been climbing since early morning, but Harry was still full of excited energy. It felt good to be outdoors, with the fresh air and the beautiful scenery. The hike was physically demanding, and Harry felt a good kind of energy thrum through his veins. Most of the time, it was just him and Severus. No words were passed between them, and the only sounds were of their steady breathing or the musical sounds of nature. Occasionally, their paths would cross with other hikers. Some going solo, some in big merry groups. Whenever this happened, Harry would edge closer to Severus, comforted by the others presence, but he would nod and wave, just like Severus did. The fact that these people were strangers made him fear them just a little bit more. The villagers he had come to know, these people were unknown quantities, and not knowing scared him. But he had made a decision to get better, and Merlin damn him if he didn't at least try. Having Severus by his side helped tremendously.

Sometimes Severus and Harry would stop and look at the abundant greenery that bordered the many hiking trails. They would pinpoint various herbs they could spot, some magical and some not. Harry cherished every moment of it and he thanked Severus numerous times for suggesting it. The man just shook his head and smiled his small smiles. Severus was glad Harry was enjoying this. Harry had always loved the outdoors. It spoke to him of freedom, and happiness and hope. His home had plenty of open space, but when compared to the luscious beauty of the mountain range his garden was a paltry shadow. When the two had sat down to a light lunch Harry had packed, the elation that accompanied his sense of freedom hit a climax and Harry had started dancing and shouting in joy, much to Severus' amusement. This was definitely good for the Boy Wonder.

When they were nearing the peak it was getting into evening time, and the sky was beginning to darken. It was then that things started to go badly for Harry. They met a group of three friends, all male, who had also decided to climb to the peak. There was only one trail that led all the way up, so the two groups started the final lap together. The friends were rowdy and high on the adrenalin rush they felt, and they sang and chatted merrily. Harry had not prepared for an intrusion like this and felt cornered and frightened by their loudness. He strayed silently to the back of the group but Severus was having none of that. He grabbed hold of Harry and they walked together just beside the merry gang. As the friends joked and laughed with Severus, Harry kept silent and tense. It was like the party all over again. Why must these people be so rambunctious? He was just waiting for one of them to throw an arm over him and hug him in momentary comradeship. He wasn't ready for that. He was only comfortable with Severus. And that was with months and months of conditioning.

But the boys did nothing of that sort. They seemed to notice Harry's tension, but didn't mention it if they found it weird. They mostly ignored him and chatted on with Severus, who was not a conversational person, either way. Though Harry never really released all the tension, he allowed himself to concentrate on the task of navigating the path without tripping and it seemed to bleed out his tension, bit by bit. If he concentrated hard enough on the path, and the beauty around him, maybe he could enjoy the rest of the trip.

When they finally reached the peak, the groups parted and Severus led him gently to a particular ledge that jutted out defiantly into the air. The peak they were on was one of the tallest around and they had a clear, uncluttered view of the land. And it was breathtaking. The sun was just beginning to set, and the sky was painted delicious hues of pink and orange. The sleepy sun was just beginning to disappear behind distant mountain ridges and lingering rays seemed to caress the landscape before him. Luscious greenery seemed to glow in the light and Harry could just make out the glinting water of the river as it wove its way through the forest.

In that moment, Harry decided that it was worth it. Everything he had been through, today, and the previous years of his chaotic life. Harry suddenly felt that his sacrifices had not been in vain. The pain and the tears had been suffered to protect this natural beauty. The blood he had given, the blood he had taken, seemed to be a suitable forfeit if it ensured that splendor like this lived on. The constant tension and fear was elevated for a moment, and Harry truly appreciated the life he had been given. Sighing in pleasure and contentment, Harry turned to his personal Savior.

"Thank you, Sev."

Severus smiled down at Harry, a rare true smile of happiness. He had done the right thing. Finally. Severus had come here in the past to clear his head. Remind himself what exactly he was fighting for with all those years of spying. He had never brought anyone here, but Harry was by his side now and it felt right. He still could not discern what he felt for the man, besides care and concern, but somehow, it didn't seem to matter now. He was faced the awesome power of natural, unspoiled beauty. All that mattered was that Harry seemed to enjoy this as much as he did, and that made a warm feeling blossom to life in his heart.

--

After a while, the sky began to really darken and the warm wind that had been blowing slowly gave way to chilling gusts. Harry shivered and realized that it was time to head home. How did it get so dark, so suddenly? He turned to Severus and asked him how long it would take to get home. Harry realized that he was hungry, and a nice hot stew in front of the fireplace, after a refreshing bath, would not go amiss. But when Harry saw a look of alarm laced with copious amounts of guilt slowly creep into the other man's expression, he knew something was amiss.

"Severus?"

"I… I.. I had thought…."

'Severus Snape, stuttering? The world must be ending. Gotta warn the Daily Prophet!' An amused smile flittered across Harry's face at that thought.

"I had thought that we would apparate back."

Suddenly, the situation wasn't so amusing anymore. Apparate? Magic. Apparating meant magic.

"Isn't there a way down? Can't we just go back the way we came? How bout we just stay here?" Harry was desperate for another solution; any solution.

"It's dark, Harry. And the path is not lit. If you want to stay up here, we need a tent. It will get quite cold. We could share with those boys, if it really comes to that."

Harry looked over at the group of friends who were just now setting up a campfire. Their single tent was already pitched and looked small. He did not like the idea of sharing a tent. Being in such a small space. So many people.

Suddenly, Harry was very angry. This was all wrong! Severus made a promise! No magic, he said.

"It slipped my mind about the magic. I was just so anxious to let you see this. I'm sorry."

Harry sensed the sincerity in Severus' voice, and part of him was ready to forgive the man, but the panic that was welling inside of him overwhelmed all other emotions. This was no silly potion. This was apparation. There was a reason that only wizards and witches of age could do it, and why it was so strictly licensed. Apparation required the person to reach into his magical core, and at the same time, grasp the tendrils of magic outside of it. Reaching out to your core magic was a delicate task. And it frightened Harry like nothing else could.

Could he wait here until morning? He would have to share the tent with the boys, if they let them. And it was cold; the temperature dropped steadily every few minutes. Harry had a choice to make. Stay here, camp with the boys, and suffer through a night of tense alertness and borderline full out panic. Or apparate home with Severus, and suffer the consequences there. Harry made the only choice he could.

"Apparate us home. Do you know the bent old tree halfway from the village?"

Severus nodded slowly. He knew the place.

"Good. We head there. I don't want to apparate anywhere near the house."

Severus nodded his head in accent, but his face was guilt-ridden. Harry closed his eyes and prepared himself for the expected pull of magic. He breathed in and out slowly, trying to calm his racing heart. He waited for Severus to grab a hold of him and he tensed his body in expectation. He waited. But nothing happened. Harry opened his eyes to stare at Severus.

The man was looking at him apprehensively, like he expected Harry to start shouting at him again.

Gritting his teeth, Harry forced himself not to scream at the man.

"I can't apparate, Severus. You'll have to do it for the both of us."

At this, Severus' expression of apprehension and confusion only intensified. But he stepped up to Harry and gently pulled him into an embrace. Closing his eyes again, Harry steeled himself. Then, with a faint pop, they were gone.

--

Severus kicked open the front door and ran into the sitting room with his burden held tightly to his chest. Harry was convulsing madly in his arms and it scared the Potions Master badly. He hurriedly, but gently placed Harry in front of the fireplace on the thick rug and started a fire. He was afraid Harry would hurt himself falling off the couch. From the occasional moans that escaped the man's lips and the eyes that bore deep into him, Severus knew that Harry was conscious. When they had arrived at the gnarled old tree after apparating, Harry had doubled over and screamed in pain; it was a scream that spoke of pure agony. It had caused Severus' heart to plummet to his feet, and he had done the only thing he could think of. He had scooped the man up in his arms and he had run the entire way back to the cottage.

Now, seeing Harry jerk and cry out in pain, Severus was hit with a sense of helplessness. How was he supposed to help him? The first thing that came to mind was potions. He was the best Potions Master in Britain for heaven's sake! Dozens of concoctions swirled in his mind as he ran through his mental catalogue. He could make any of them within an hour! As he moved to do just that, an abrupt scream from Harry jerked him to his senses. What was he thinking? He couldn't go against the promise he had made, not again. And if it really was the magic in the apparation that had caused Harry this pain, what would a potion do? Maybe help him, but most probably exacerbate the condition. But what _was_ the condition? Why was Harry screaming like he had been hit by a dozen Cruciatus at once?

While the thoughts swirled through his mind, Severus unconsciously tried to soothe Harry and had somehow pulled the shivering man into his lap, as he sat on the floor. He was restraining Harry with one hand so he wouldn't hurt himself, and the other was busy stroking his hair softly. When he realized what he was doing, Severus hesitated slightly. He had never been one to give comfort. But somehow, now it didn't seem to matter. Severus carefully removed Harry's bulky jacket and used a cloth he found in his bag to gently wipe the cold sweat from Harry's face. The tremors and the jerks seemed to be dying out and Harry had either fallen asleep or was unconscious. Either way, it was a blessing for the man. No one should be able to stand as much pain as Harry had seemed to be in.

As he held Harry in his arms, Severus was confronted with the true tragedy of the situation. Harry seemed so fragile and so _breakable_. The Savior of the wizarding world wasn't supposed to be either of those things, or so most people wanted to believe. Most people chose not to see past the glory and the idolized celebrity to the man that suffered. The man that had seen and done much more than any person his age should have been saddled with. Saving the wizarding world had been his burden, his task, since he was but a baby. It was unfair. And as Severus looked down at the man whose face was contorted in pain, even in blessed unconsciousness, he began to realize how truly unfair the world was.

Severus sat there in front of the fire, holding Harry, for most of the night. His thoughts spun from one thread to another. His emotions swung from guilt at his idiotic actions, to anger at the world at large. But mostly, Severus was ashamed. He was supposed to be taking care of Harry. 'Saving Harry'; wasn't that his current mission? He was supposed to be more astute than most, more sensitive to the nuances of the human psyche. It was what had made him such a good spy in the war. And he always saw himself as a trustworthy man; at least to the ones he actually respected or cared about. He had never betrayed Dumbledore, even when fulfilling a promise he made meant killing the very man he had come to love like a father. He killed even though his every instinct told him not to. He had done it because he had promised. And now he had broken a simple promise to the man who had come to mean the most in his life.

"No magic, Severus." Harry's voice seemed to echo to him in this room.

No magic. A simple request for a man who lived a simple life. But Severus hadn't counted on how much he took magic for granted. He had planned to apparate off the peak; it would take them an entire day to reach it and apparating home when night approached seemed like the most logical thing to do. It was instinctual to him, apparating, and he had forgotten all about his promise. The result of his stupidity was right before him.

Severus pondered long and hard about the pain Harry was in. The aversion to magic made sense now. But why the pain? And why didn't Harry react like that at the party? Stopping himself, Severus remembered the incident with the potion and the washroom. He must have been in pain then; the noises he heard and the pale, flushed look Harry had sported made sense now. So potions hurt him too. Suddenly Severus was glad that he had had the sense not to give Harry any potions to ease the pain, as had been instinctual for him.

As the first rays of morning light began to creep into the sitting room, Severus came to a conclusion in his mind. He has spent the entire night pondering and grasping at alternatives. The most logical conclusion was also the most horrific. Harry's time spent with the Death Eaters and Voldemort had affected him more than he had ever let on. The man who was lying prone in his arms must be terrified of magic; magic had been used to harm him, and what Severus saw now was just a natural distrust towards it. And the pain. The pain must be a physical manifestation of his psychological state. Severus had been researching extensively about abuse and torture victims. It was not uncommon that a victim would have involuntary physical reactions to things that they had come to perceive as dangers. He had never come across something as violent as Harry's case, but with magic, anything is possible. Severus finally thought he understood Harry now; how Harry would insist he apparate far away from the house, and the lack of any magical residue in the house itself. Harry was scared, and Severus was damned if he didn't give his all to help the man he had come to care so much about.

* * *

Author's Note:

Another short chapter. Severus was emo in this one. Ok, kinda emo. And feelings develop. And Severus has come to some conclusions. Are they right? Are they wrong? Hmm… Not telling! Do you think Severus is kinda out of character? Ok, he's definitely out of character. I don't know, to me, Severus was always like this on the inside. I love me some tortured souls! If Severus were real, trust me, I'll marry him in a flash.

On another note, thanks for the reviews! It's nice to know people are reading and enjoying the story. And if you think anything can be improved, or you have suggestions, don't be afraid to share them! The next chapter should be up by around Wednesday, so you don't need to wait another week for it! Yay! Thanks for reading! :)


	8. Chapter 7 Feelings

Chapter 7 - Feelings

When Harry woke up to a glaringly bright room and a pounding head, he suddenly wished that sleep would take him under again. As he lay there on the bed, Harry took careful stock of the pains and aches that seemed to consume his body. His head felt like there was a little devil in there, pounding away. His eyes felt like over-ripe tomatoes, ready for bursting. His mouth was dryer than the Sahara desert and his throat felt like a cat's scratching post. And every single muscle he had, and some he hadn't known he had, seemed to be throbbing. And it was not a good kind of throbbing. But worst of all was the dull, yet incessant, ache that centered itself somewhere in the middle of his chest. His magical core. It was thrumming in agitation. Harry's hands flew to his neck, and a sigh of relief escaped when he felt the comforting steel beneath his fingers. It was still there. He was safe. They were safe.

Suddenly aware that he was not living alone anymore, Harry started to wonder about Severus. Where was he? And how had he gotten to his bed? For Harry had finally realized that he was tucked into his own bed in his house. The last thing he remembered was the gnarled old tree and the all encompassing pain that wracked his body. Harry had been right about the pain. Even though he himself had not apparated, Severus' magic had surrounded the both of them and the presence of such strong, _intimate_ magic had hurt him terribly. For Severus to apparate him in Side-Along Apparation, he had to reach out his magic to Harry and allow it to carry Harry along with him. Such an intrusion into his bubble had caused a violent response from Harry's own magic. It was as if a fire had been eating at him form the inside. It burnt through his veins and crushed his lungs in an effort to reach out and get out.

A potion at least was inanimate. The magic in it was secondary, impersonal. But Severus had been so close to him, and his magic had reached out to entwine with his own, and that made all the difference. Now, more than ever, Harry was certain that he was unsafe. He was a danger to all around him. And although he wasn't angry with Severus anymore, Harry tried to dredge up the hate he needed to fuel his planned explosion. Harry knew Severus hadn't planned the apparation on purpose. Magic was instinctive to him, and he had fallen back on it due to a force of habit. This only made Harry more determined to drive Severus away from this house. From this life. Severus did not deserve to be cooped up here and be forced to give up the very thing that he was; a wizard. And he was in constant danger with Harry's magic being as unstable at it was. He had to get the man out of the house.

Harry slowly and painfully got himself out of bed and slipped on his night robe. Severus had changed him into a t-shirt and his sleeping pants, sometime during the night. His body felt sticky and unclean, but he had to do this now or he would lose his nerve. So Harry shuffled his way out of the room, intent on finding the Slytherin who had come to mean so much to him. He headed to Severus' rooms but stopped short when heard sounds coming from the kitchen. Making his way to the doorway, he saw Severus pottering about, making a light meal. A quick glance at the clock told Harry that he was making lunch. He had slept through the entire morning. Severus didn't seem to be aware of Harry's presence and Harry took this time to have one last look at the man who had wormed his way into his life.

Severus was as graceful and confident in the kitchen as he had always been in his potions lab. He cooked and brewed by instinct, and it was a wonder to watch. There was always a method to his work, but also a kind of beauty that Harry had come to appreciate from his hours working with the man one on one during the war. Potions had been essential in healing the wounded and were also nifty and nasty weapons in battle. As Harry watched the man work, he took a moment to acknowledge the comfort and security he felt when Severus was around. Even after last night's debacle, Harry still trusted Severus with his life. Harry had never felt as safe or as protected as when he was with this man. The spy had always watched out for him, and had saved his life more times than he could count. And he had been a life-line for Harry's sanity during the hectic climax of the war. Harry would definitely miss him.

Putting up his strongest Occlumency skills, and calling forth every acting skill he had, Harry called out to Severus.

"What are you still doing here?"

Severus whirled around and stared at Harry in shock. The venom in his voice was harsh and hurtful, but Severus knew he deserved it.

"Making you a light lunch. I didn't think you would be up to eating much."

"Of course not! Not after that stunt you pulled last night! You promised! I trusted you Severus!"

Harry knew that his last sentence would hit Severus the hardest, and it did. The man's face suddenly lost all color and he looked very guilty.

"I.. I'm sorry, Harry. I really did not mean to cause you such pain. I… I didn't mean it. And I'm sorry."

The look on Severus' face almost made him change his mind, but Harry knew that he had to do this.

"I'm sorry too, Severus. But I can't trust you anymore. Not after this."

Severus looked as if he had been struck dumb. It took a long moment for him to think of something to say. Harry had every right to be angry at him, but had he really broke their friendship beyond repair? Severus didn't want to believe that. He needed to believe that there was hope. Just as he was about to speak, Harry cut him to the chase.

"Just leave, Severus. Please just leave."

Severus felt his breath leave him. He had done it now, hadn't he? Harry was asking him to leave. He didn't want to, not now. He made a last desperate attempt to apologize.

"I'm sorry, Harry. But I promised that I would help you. I want to help you over this… this… whatever it is. I promised to stay and help you."

"Do me a favor, Severus. Break that promise and leave. It wasn't too hard for you to break the last one."

--

It was a subdued and broken Severus Snape that left the cottage later that afternoon. He had packed everything in his trunk as slow as he could, wishing Harry would change his mind. Severus just did not want to accept that he had ruined things so completely. It had hit him, just as he was packing, just how much he treasured this house and the man who owned it. It was the only home he knew, the only home he wanted. Severus had never seen himself as a sentimental man, but Harry's home had become _his_ home, and he was terrified of leaving it. He still had not completely discerned his feelings for the man, but he knew that the ache he felt in his chest as he looked back at the cottage meant something important. He didn't want to leave. And he didn't have anywhere to go. He had vowed never to go back to Snape Manor. And so, at a loss, Severus apparated to the only place he could think of, Malfoy Manor.

--

When Draco entered his sitting room to find a disheveled and tired-looking Severus sitting on his couch with his head in his heads, he was taken aback. His godfather was never disheveled. His impeccable dress sense and propriety were only ever rivaled by the Malfoys, and that was high praise indeed. He had been curious when Pinky, his house elf, had informed him that Severus had Flooed in, and now he was perturbed. He hadn't seen or talked to the man properly in a month at least, and here he was, very uncharacteristically falling apart.

"Severus, what's the matter? Are you ok?"

Draco moved in front of the couch to get a proper look at the man and was slightly surprised to see Severus' trunk at his feet. He was coming to stay?

"Severus. What's going on? You're scaring me here."

At this, Severus looked up and Draco was once again shocked at the amount of pain and guilt he saw in those eyes.

"May I stay here, Draco? It will most probably be for a few days at most. And I promise to cause no trouble for you."

"Of course, Severus. You didn't need to ask. You know you are always welcome here."

And it was true; Severus had always been a doting and understanding godfather to Draco. He had helped the boy escape from Voldemort's clutches when the Slytherin had realized that he didn't want to be a Death Eater. Draco's mother was dead, and his father in Azkaban for good; Severus was the only family he had left.

When Draco took out his wand and levitated Severus' trunk so he could show his guest to his room, he saw anger and regret flit across Severus' face. This was disturbing. Draco knew something was up, but he couldn't figure it out. He had some serious thinking to do.

--

While Severus was wallowing in his troubles over at Malfoy Manor, Harry was stewing in his own in his cottage. Harry had refused to see the man off, for he could not possibly keep up the pretence of anger any longer and he knew that if he saw that look of despair on the man's face again, his will would break and he would beg the man to stay. After Severus had gone, Harry had sought to distract himself by doing his usual household chores. The simple acts of cleaning and gardening always used to give him a sense of peace, but not today. Today, Harry was running on auto-pilot. Tending to his precious garden did nothing but remind Harry of the Potions Master who had quite often put in his suggestions on the care of his plants. His hands worked of their own accord, but Harry's mind spun and whirled with intense emotions. Even the continuing ache and pains of last night's incident did nothing to distract Harry from the fact that Severus was gone.

Harry missed the man. He missed having another person's presence around him. It had only been a few hours since Severus left, but he was already feeling extremely lonely knowing that he wouldn't be back. The house felt deserted, and less like a home. How had he survived this solitude for the past two years? And why did Severus affect him so? When Severus had been living with him, Harry had basked in his presence and took comfort in the strength the man provided. He hadn't really thought at any length about the feelings he held for Severus. Harry knew he cared about him, he knew he missed him and wanted him back. Harry knew that he had never felt as comforted as when he was with Severus. But the rest of it, he couldn't figure out. He had never had much experience. The Dursleys were never big on emotions, besides hate and disdain when it came to Harry. And what with the war going on, Harry never had a chance to explore his emotions like any normal teenager. He knew what friendship and friendly love was like. He shared that with Ron, Hermione and Draco. And he knew he shared that with Severus. As Harry struggled to come to grips with the ache in his heart, he wondered if maybe what he felt for Severus was something more. Something more potent, perhaps?

When night fell, Harry found himself lounging on the couch, a book in his hands. The sense of loss he felt reached a crescendo just then, as he sat in front of the flickering flames and realized that he was alone. He wanted Severus to be beside him, he wanted someone to curl up against. He wanted Severus back. But he couldn't allow that. Severus would get hurt being around him. And it was unfair to the man to force him to give up so much just for a broken, dysfunctional man. The fire did nothing to abate the coldness he felt as Harry finally allowed himself to weep.

At the same moment, in a room many miles away, Severus Snape shed his first tear in over a decade.

* * *

Author's Note:

Ok, the chapters so far have been really emotion filled and not much action. But it needed to be done. And this chapter in particular is basically a dive into the psyche of Severus and Harry. Sorry about the lack of action, it's getting there. Thanks for sticking around and reading! :)


	9. Chapter 8 Saving Harry

Chapter 8 – Saving Harry

"Severus has been moping around the house for two weeks now. He never talks, he hardly eats. I'm beginning to get really worried about the guy."

Draco's face was screwed up in concern as he told both Ron and Hermione his worries. The three of them were at the Weasley-Granger residence; an urgent meet-up called on Draco's insistence. They had been planning their 'attack' on Harry for weeks, but this new information gave them cause to rethink their plans.

"That is very unlike him. The Snape I know swoops and snarls and is an all-round git." Ron hurriedly put up his hands in a gesture of surrender when Hermione and Draco glared at him.

"What? That _is_ normal Snape behavior." Hermione smacked her husband on the arm and turned to Draco.

"Has he said anything at all? What about Harry? Have you heard from him recently?"

"Nope. Not a peep out of either of them. Severus brought his whole trunk with him, so I guess he left Harry's place – wherever that is – for good. And by the state he's in right now, I don't think it was a very amicable parting."

"If Harry and Severus really are in a relationship – and it seems more than likely – then something must have happened. Maybe Severus did something wrong, I mean, if he's the one feeling down. He must have done something wrong for Harry to kick him out."

"That makes sense, Hermy. If that greasy git really did hurt Harry, I'll sock him a good one."

"We'll _all_ sock him a good one." Coming from Draco, this was a dangerous threat indeed. Severus may have been like family, but Harry was too, and Severus could be so thick sometimes.

"So the situation's like this. We have a heartbroken Severus who may or may not have done something to upset and/or anger Harry. We have a missing Harry, who is probably in need of a good shoulder to cry on. And the only way we can get to Harry is through the git who won't talk."

"Wow, good observational skills Ronny boy. Your Auror training is really paying off huh?" Draco mocked the red-head.

"Keep that up, Draco and you get a taste of what the Auror _physical_ training is like, "Ron threatened. Draco faked a look of utter terror and Ron scowled.

"Boys! Would you please get back to the main concern here? It seems like every time we have a 'meeting', you two have to bicker and get off track!"

When both boys looked properly chastised, Hermione continued.

"Now, we've been planning and planning, but we haven't actually done anything. So I suggest we try something now." Hermione brought out a large piece of parchment, a crystal and one of Harry's old shirts he had lent to Ron, who had never given it back.

"A Scrying Spell? You're gonna try a simple Scrying Spell? Please tell me you're joking. You're talking about Harry Potter here. He probably has the strongest wards imaginable around wherever he is! He's magic will repel any stupid Scyring Spell you send at him." Draco was indignant. What had he said about idiotic Gryffindor plans?

"I don't see _you_ coming up with any ideas, Blondie."

"I resent that nickname."

"And I resent your whiny voice. Now hon, get on with it. It's at least worth a shot."

Smiling sweetly at her husband, Hermione began to explain the Scrying Spell, just because she could.

"Now, Scrying spells are usually done by one person, but since we're talking about Harry here, I thought our combined efforts would be better. We all love him, in our own way, so that's one essential requirement down. We have his shirt. It should be enough, shouldn't it? We covered basic scrying in second year, so Ok, so on the count of three, we all say the spell together ok? Hold on tight to the shirt, now. And the incantation is _comperio _**_amicus_****, s**ay it right."

Ron, by now used to his wife's ways, only nodded in agreement and did as his wife said. Draco however wasn't used to Hermione's natural tendency to explain things to death and scowled at her, but he wisely kept his mouth shut and grabbed a hold of the shirt.

"On the count of three. One. Two. Three."

"_Comperio_**_amicus_**!" Three voices rang loud and clear in the air.

The crystal that had been lying atop the parchment, levitated in the air. The three people in the room held their breaths anxiously. Would it work? Suddenly, images appeared on the parchment, zooming by at an incredible rate. Draco leaned forward to take a closer look. The parchment had become an enchanted map, and the scenery was zooming by as the crystal sought out their friend. Draco could make out mountain ranges and vast open fields. And even a city or two in-between.

Just as suddenly as the movement started, it stopped. Three heads bent over the parchment and crystal in curiosity.

"You mean it worked?!" Ron was the first to voice the incredulity they all felt. They had just successfully scryed for the most powerful wizard in the world. Scrying was generally considered a fool's art because any regular witch or wizard could easily allay the effects with a few counter-spells or wards.

Hermione whispered a little spell and the name and location of the place appeared on the paper.

"It worked all right. Harry is in this little cottage in the middle of nowhere."

And sure enough, Harry's little cottage was clearly visible on the map, the crystal hanging pointedly on-top of it. The three friends stared at each other with bewildered but determined expressions on their faces.

"Alright then. Let's go save Harry."

Hermione and Draco nodded resolutely.

--

The next day saw the trio once again gathered in the Weasley-Granger house. They were up bright and early for their plan and they were full of anxious excitement. None of them could believe that Harry would be found so easily and with such a silly spell, and they were half-expecting a trap of some kind. The war may have been over, but their training stayed with them. But this worry was overshadowed by their bigger concern; Harry and his current mental state. They had no doubt in their minds now that Harry must be upset and heartbroken over whatever Severus had done and as his best friends, they were eager to cheer him up.

"Is everyone ready? Do we have everything we need?" Hermione was bustling about making sure they had their 'gear'; a critical part of their plan to cheer the Savior up. It was a picnic basket filled with all kinds of treats and goodies. There was wine, butterbeer, chocolate cake, cupcakes, cookies, Chocolate Fogs, lamb stew (Harry's favorite), a kit from Weasley Wizarding Wheezes, a wizarding porno magazine (courtesy of Draco), Quidditch magazines and a Chudley Cannon scarf (courtesy of Ron). They had all the artillery they needed on mission 'Saving Harry'.

When they were finally ready, they stood around the dining room table with the basket in between them. They all had their wands out and they faces betrayed just the slightest bit of tension.

"Ready then? You two got the address down right? There shouldn't be any anti-apparating wards, but we'll aim for the edge of the compound, just in case. Alright? On the count of three. One. Two. Three."

Ron's hand snaked out to grab the basket, and then they were gone.

They arrived just within site of the little secluded cottage and were all instantly on alert. When they realized that there was no ambush waiting for them, they calmed down and grinned at each other. They made it! Now on with the real part of the plan. The trio trooped happily down the lane towards the house and were relieved to find that Harry seemed to be at home. Making their way to the front door, they stood on the porch and wondered what to do. They had made it all this way, with no trouble and no terrifying people in black robes jumping out to kill them. But now that they were standing on the very steps, they were all kind of at a loss on how to proceed. Bang the door down and crush Harry in hugs? Bang the door down and kill Harry for making them worry? Bang the door down, crush Harry in hugs and _then_ kill him?

It was Ron, finally, who made the first move. He raised his hand and knocked sharply on the door. He knew how much Harry valued his privacy, and they weren't exactly expected guests. The deed being done, the three of them waited anxiously for an answer. They all had only one thought in their heads. Saving Harry.

--

Harry had sensed the apparating trio before he had actually heard the tell-tale popping sound of experienced apparators. He had been in the back garden, doing his normal weeding and pruning when the air suddenly seemed filled with tense expectation and swirling vortexes that often accompanied magic. Not many people could actually see magic like this and fewer understood the nuances of the 'sight', but Harry did. The magic heavy in the air had put Harry on edge and the threat of people imposing themselves on his sanctuary almost sent him over it. He had reined his panic in with a huge effort and he had hurried into the house to make sure the front door was locked. As he was securing the dead-bolt that he never really had to use before, Harry was struck with the idiocy of the task. These people had wands! They had magic at their disposal! And all the locks and dead-bolts in the world would not be able to stop them.

This thought frightened Harry and he hastened to the rear of the house, anxious to escape from the intrusion he was sure was coming. Just as he reached out his hand to yank open the door that led to his backyard and freedom, Harry paused. He sensed something familiar. It was reaching to caress him, this familiarity, and it held no harm or hurt towards him. The feeling was so familiar. Part of the world he had once held dear. It was just like at the party, and the feelings he had when he first saw the house.

Suddenly, it struck him. The people outside the door, they were his friends! Their unique magical signatures were to him like the unique scents of flowers. He knew they were out there. Draco, with his plumped up yet surprisingly mellow aura. And Ron and Hermione; their magic was so deeply intertwined by their love that it was hard to tell apart. His friends. Here. At his cottage. They had found him. Harry had done everything in his power to hide from these people. And here they were. Harry shook his head silently in resignation. It seemed that the world would not let him have his peace. First Severus. Now the trio who were, even at that moment, knocking on his door. Harry had no doubt that this particular reunion would end as badly as the last.

Hesitatingly, Harry approached the door but stopped short of actually opening it. He took a deep breath and tried to calm his racing heart. The panic he had almost succumbed to was wavering just outside his consciousness and Harry knew it would take very little for it to consume him completely. This was _his_ house. His self-created haven. And these were unexpected and unwelcome guests. Worse. These people were his friends. They would not be satisfied with a quick 'Hello' and a just as swift 'Goodbye'. Another knock sounded on the door and Harry braced himself for the inevitable. Strengthening his shields as much as he could, Harry undid the locks and swung open the door.

--

"Hi guys."

Draco, Ron and Hermione had been planning this 'mission' for months, running through all the ways they could go about getting answers out of the tight-lipped Harry. They had discussed at length the various possible situations in which they would find their dear friend and they plotted their reactions accordingly. But all plans were left on the way-side when the trio first saw their friend. He looked so small and frail. Harry had always been on the diminutive side when it came to height, but he looked positively _tiny_ standing in the doorway. All of them immediately noticed just how pale he looked, and it was the pale complexion of the sick, since Harry had a nice, deep tan from his hours spent outside gardening. His eyes were dull and tired and his shoulders slumped like they had the weight of the world placed on them. Knowing Harry, that just might be the truth.

Hermione was the first to break the spell and called out gently to her long, lost friend.

"Heya there, Harry. Can we come in?"

Harry stepped back and allowed them entrance into his small home. He led the trio to the sitting room, just like he had led Severus there the first time. Unlike Severus though, his three friends had no qualms about throwing themselves on the furniture and making themselves comfortable. Ron and Draco had done just that but Hermione was placing a large picnic basket on the little coffee table he had and was beckoning him to join her. Curious, Harry stepped beside her as she started to unpack the contents.

"We have everything we need here for a little party. Lots of comfort food, snacks and dubious reading material," Hermione explained.

"Hey! I resent that! Quidditch magazines are very good reading materials! There's plenty of analysis and whatnot in there!" Ron defended mock-severely.

"I was referring to this," Hermione stated matter-of-factly while waving the porno magazine about. Draco just shrugged while Harry and Ron turned beet red once they realize what she held.

"I don't know whether you like gals or guys more, so that magazine has both," Draco explained.

Harry suppressed a shudder and gave Draco a small smile. He wasn't quite ready to go anywhere near that topic yet. He watched apprehensively as Hermione laid it on the table. He was going to have to get rid of that as soon as possible. He never liked those kind of 'reading materials' when he was a teenager, and even more so now.

Hermione went on unpacking the basket, while Ron and Draco looked around his small, but cozy sitting room. However, what all three of them were actually trying to do was analyze their friend who was standing dumbly beside the basket and trying to ignore the loaded glances that just _happened_ to be aimed his way. He hated this. This bashful scrutiny. What they actually wanted to do was put Harry under a microscope and study him to death. But they were too 'polite'. It made Harry feel very uncomfortable and somewhat angry. He hated when people did that. Severus had always been blatant in his scrutiny. He would stare at Harry with an expression that read 'I'm-staring-at-you-to-figure-out-what-is-troubling-you-and-if-you-don't-like-it-just-deal-with-it-because-it's-for-your-own-good'. He was always straightforward about it. But this 'staring out of the corner of your eye thing' that his friends were trying to accomplish just seemed rude. It made Harry quite angry, and anger was good. It helped keep away the panic.

And there was the white elephant in the room; the questions that they all seemed to be avoiding with studious care.

'Why are you here? How did you find me?' Harry screamed in his head.

His three friends were acting like this was a routine visit; like they came here every week or so. No one seemed to care to mention the fact that they weren't even supposed to know where he lived. Let alone have permission to actually come and take over his sitting room. For a moment, his anger at the intrusion overcame his panic and Harry just wanted to lash out at them for their insensitivity when the sight of a wand being taken out brought his panic back full force.

"Ummm…. Why don't we go outside guys? I want to show you my garden. And it's such a nice day." Harry had caught himself in time. He didn't want to jump at Hermione and demand that she keep her wand and never take it out. That would only lead to more questions. More questions that he wanted to avoid completely.

Hermione, who was the one who had taken out the wand, smiled at him and gestured to the food she laid out, "Ok, Harry. Sounds great. Just let me unshrink these and cancel the preservation charms then we can go."

"No! I mean. No. Just leave them there. We'll do that later. Let's just go outside."

Hermione looked at Harry with a perplexed expression but put her wand back inside her arm-holster; it was a habit all of them had picked up during the war. Leading the way out into the garden, Harry was glad to be out of the sitting room. He hadn't sensed the minute traces of magic on the food immediately, but once he was aware of it, it was painfully obvious and disconcerting. Magic residues in his sitting room. He would have to do something about that later. As Harry stepped out into the sunshine, he was suddenly glad that he had suggested this. He had not realized just how uncomfortable he was in an enclosed space with so many people until he had reached the large expanse of the outdoors. It felt good to have such a wide space to accommodate him and his friends. It gave him the impression that he could run away and be free if he wanted to. It was a good feeling.

The good feeling evaporated when he felt an arm being draped around his shoulder and a voice in his ear that said, "You have a great garden, Harry. It really is beautiful."

The abruptness of the action and the utter _closeness_ of the other person – Draco – sent Harry into full panic mode. He knocked the offending arm away and back-peddled as far as he could. It was a conditioned reaction that just never seemed to go away, even with Severus.

The look of shock on Draco's face was indescribable. Ron and Hermione had similar looks of puzzlement and concern, but Draco looked hurt and intrigued at the same time. Oh, he had done it now. He had just given the vultures something to circle around. And they would not leave him alone until they talked the situation to death. Gathering himself together as much as he could, Harry decided that he wanted them out of his house. Now. He called on all the anger he had felt just a while ago and went on the offensive.

"Stop staring at me like I'm some kind of freak show. Or a child you're too afraid to alarm. And what are you guys doing here anyway? Did I say you can come over and take over my house? Did I say I wanted to be disturbed? It would have been _polite_ and _respectful_ to ask me before you came over. Especially when I never even gave you guys my address! And for a good reason! I don't want anyone to find me here! How did you find me anyway? Did you bribe someone from the village? Did Severus tell you?"

As the words came out of his mouth, Harry faltered. That thought hadn't occurred to him until his mouth ran away with him. Had Severus told them? Had he betrayed Harry's trust and told them everything? His suspicions? Everything? Suddenly the air seemed too cold for Harry, even with the bright morning sunlight.

Hermione and Draco were quick to notice how Harry's face paled when he said that last bit about Severus. Their minds jumped straight to their already derived conclusion that Harry must be missing the dour Potions Master. Their hearts reached out to the heart-broken man. How he must feel thinking his lover had betrayed his trust! But it was surprisingly Ron that sought to relieve Harry of the heartache.

"Severus didn't tell us. He didn't tell us a thing about you actually. No matter what we said, or what we asked, he wouldn't tell us a bloody thing. Merlin knows we almost badgered him to death."

A light seemed to flicker in Harry's eyes as his friends watched and his expression visibly lightened. His friends could not help but grin inwardly. Ah, the wonders of love.

Harry was relieved. Severus hadn't betrayed his trust. His friends did not know anything. Except for where he lived. And just like that, the anger came back again. Just as Harry was about to continue his tirade against his friends, there was a low, vicious growl from behind him. That didn't sound good.

* * *

Author's Note:

Haha! Some action! So… what's that growling sound? Who or what is it from? Hmm… not telling. :)

I'm really sorry about the late update. basically, work and university applications have got me all tied up. i hope i can update more regularly from now on...

And... I made a huge huge boo boo! Don't kill me ok? See, I had originally planned one story line that includes a Ginny and Draco pairing. But somewhere along the line, I decided to change the storyline…. So I wrote two chapter 5'ves and I uploaded the wrong one! Aaahhh! I know, big boo boo. I just uploaded the CORRECT version of chapter 5. ginny is supposed to be dead. Sighs… go back and read chapter 5 again? Please…. It only differs from the first one by a little bit at the end. Sorry again!

If you don't want to read it, basically, the story is this. Draco married ginny. Ginny died during the war. Draco is very sad. Oh, and I covered the other people that died in the correct version of chapter 5. I didn't really want to dwell on the past, so it isn't a very heavy chapter.

Thanks for reading!


	10. Chapter 9 Sorry

Chapter 9 – Sorry

Ron, Draco and Hermione were rooted in fear, all of them rendered immobile with shock and fright. Harry had his back to the source of the growl and he was perplexed by the look of terror on their ashen faces. When another more sinister growl was heard, Ron's Auror training kicked in and he went into 'save-the-civilians' mode.

"Harry. Stay where you are. Don't move a muscle." Ron's voice was laced with tension and a tight sense of control.

Harry cocked his head to one side, and stared at his friend. Don't move? What in heaven's name was he up to? Ron didn't seem to heed his own advice and his arm was slowly extending out to Harry. At first, Harry thought that Ron intended for him to take his hand, but then he realized that he was raising his hand to brandish his wand. Before he could warn him off the foolish act, Ron's wand leapt from his arm-holster into his awaiting hand. Ron had no time to even utter a spell before a big black shape growled and pounced on the witless red-head. Harry felt something hit his shoe and he looked down. A stick. The black terror had dropped a stick at his feet.

Harry whipped his head up when he felt the tell-tale sensations that preceded wand magic and saw that both Draco and Hermione had their wands pointed at the beast that was currently sitting on Ron's chest as he lay helpless on the ground.

"Stop! Put those away! What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" Harry shouted, startling everyone besides the large black dog that was growling in Ron's face. Draco and Hermione stared at Harry with incredulous expressions. A beast was attacking their friend and Harry wanted them to put away their wands? Ron would have had the same expression if not for the fact that his attention was focused on the beast that was baring his impressive sat of fangs in his face.

Looking as angry as ever, but now with a touch of amusement, Harry called out, "Nightmare. Come! Get off the idiot."

The big black dog obediently trotted back to his master and happily nudged against his legs. Harry patted the dog on its head and smiled down at the ferocious beast.

"You want to play fetch don't you?" As if he had understood the question, the dog picked up the stick he had dropped with his huge muzzle and offered it to Harry. Blatantly ignoring his friends, Harry took the stick and waved it about in the air.

"You want to play fetch, boy? Well, you better go long, cos this is gonna be a good one!" The beast seemed to be happy with the exclamation and started to bounce away happily. It was terribly disconcerting to see such a huge, fearsome looking creature doing something as silly as bouncing and the three outsiders were very confused, if not a little frightened by the display. Meanwhile, Harry was swinging his arm back to give a good throw. Went the stick flew into the air, the menacing dog did not run after it immediately, to the surprise of the dumb-struck trio. Instead, the black beast called Nightmare turned back and gave them a fierce, warning growl, showing off it's impressive set of canines as if to say 'be careful, I'm watching you', then he bounded off to retrieve the stick.

Harry was looking at his friends with amusement in his eyes, though it did not over-ride his anger or his desperation to see them gone. After a few moments, Ron gathered the strength to stand up, albeit on shaky legs. All of them looked shaken; even the ever poised and perfect Draco. As always, Hermione was the first to get control of her tongue again.

"That was a Grimm, Harry!"

Harry gave her a look that made her blush despite herself; he had given her the Harry trademarked 'duh' raised eyebrow look.

"I think I would have noticed it was a Grimm, Hermione. Nobody could miss those red eyes." And Harry was right. The Grimm not only differed from normal dogs in their enormous size, but also their blood red eyes. It was because of this, and their ominous black color, that these 'beasts' were often seen as death omens. They were rare, magical creatures that had a reputation of being the total opposite of 'people-friendly'. Just like Harry felt these days. He was like the Grimm he had let into his home as a pet and companion; wary and mistrustful of people, and a hell-demon when provoked.

"Why would you have a Grimm?" Draco had finally managed to form a coherent thought and even managed somehow to put them into words.

Harry shrugged. "Because I do. He's a perceptive one, that one. He knows I don't want you guys here. So, you better go before he comes back and jumps on _all_ of you."

"But Harry, we want to see you! We haven't seen you in months! And we're worried about you!" Ron was not going without a fight.

"Well, that's just bloody well and good! _Worried_ about me? You could have _owled_. You could have, I don't know? Maybe _asked_ me whether you guys could come over and disrupt my life?! I don't need you guys here. I'm fine, and I don't need your help. So just go!"

Nightmare came trotting back to Harry with the stick in his mouth. He had sensed Harry's anger and fear and he knew that those three intruders had something to do about it. He dropped the stick and growled at the trio again. If they did not leave soon, he would bite _all_ their heads off. His Harry was fragile, and hurting. He sensed an overwhelming reservoir of pain, guilt and the burden of duty within the powerful wizard. He was not a magical creature for nothing; and the legend of Grimms like him being death omens was not entirely untrue. They rarely chose a wizard companion to attach themselves to, and when they did, it was the ones who were burdened with responsibility and touched by death. And if they had chosen one as a master, they protected their wizard with their lives.

Despite the impassioned speech and the growling beast, the three unwelcome guests did not move to leave. They did not want to leave Harry. Ron and Draco were looking at Harry with pleading eyes. Hermione was looking at Harry with a curious expression on her face. It was a mixture of fear, concern, guilt and pity. Her friend was hurting, badly. And even before Severus, he had been reclusive and silent. It was not like him. How had she not seen it sooner? Harry was not recovering well from the Final Battle. The war was over, and he looked lost. Her friend was seriously damaged and she had done nothing to help him. What kind of friend was she? She had been so busy celebrating Voldemort's demise and trying to start a life of her own with Ron that she had forgotten all about Harry. The guilt overwhelmed her for a moment before her natural Gryffindor tenacity broke through. She had made a mistake, yes. But she was going to make up for it as best she could.

"Harry. We'll leave. Right now. But it has to be all four of us. Five if you want Nightmare to come along," she glanced nervously at the Grimm before continuing. "We'll leave here. All of us. You can stay at our house, Harry. We'd love to have you over. Then we'll sit up and talk, just like we used to do all the time. We miss you Harry."

Harry stared at her as if her words did not make any sense. And in truth, they didn't. Leave the house? Stay with them? That was asking him the stars and the moon. But then again, the world had always expected the impossible from him. Harry shook his head sadly. His anger had been spent, and all he was left with was fear and an overpowering sense of sadness. The life she talked about, the time when the four of them could sit down and talk and joke, was over. At least for him.

But Hermione would not take no for an answer. "Harry, it's not safe for you here. It's not healthy. You have been avoiding us forever and it's not good to be so removed from everything. I know you want it, Harry, but it's not the best thing for you. Why don't you come home with us? It'll be just like it used to be."

Once again, Harry shook his head slowly. There were no more words to say, on his part. How many times and in how many ways could he say no?

"Harry, please. We really do miss you. And Hermione's right. It's not healthy for you here, all alone. Come back with us." Ron had joined in on the pleading.

Another shake of the head from Harry.

"Maybe you can come over to the Manor instead. It's much bigger, and you can be alone if you want to," Draco paused. "Severus is there. He's distraught over you Harry. I think he misses you."

Harry, who had been shaking his head again in silent protest, looked up at Draco at the mention of Severus. It took him a moment for Harry to absorb the rest of the sentence. Severus missed him? Harry missed the man too. The house was so empty without him. For a moment, Harry contemplated going to Malfoy Manor just to see Severus, but that was quickly dashed when he realized that such an old house as the Manor would be reeking of magic. And he would have to apparate there. He shuddered at the thought and was calmed by Nightmare, who sensed the spike of emotions in the wizard and rubbed against Harry's leg soothingly.

Harry looked at his friends and could see the sincerity of their intentions and their concern. They wanted to help him, truly they did. But didn't they realize by now that it was impossible? Harry shook his head again. The sadness was joined by weariness. He had fought so long and so hard; everyday was a constant battle for him. Their demanding pleas and the love he felt from them only made it harder for him to cope. He shook his head again.

Hermione knew that no amount of words could sway Harry anymore. He would not follow them, even if it was for his own good. Not voluntarily. Hermione did not want to do this, but her friend was suffering, he was sick in the most unrecognizable way, and she needed to help. She looked Harry in the eye. Hopefully he could forgive her for this. "I'm sorry Harry."

Before she could even cast the spell, both Harry and Nightmare sensed it. Nightmare reacted first and launched himself at the witch. How dare she fire a spell at his wizard! Hermione was thrown to the ground with the force of the attack and her wand flew out of her hand. Ron acted instinctively and blasted the Grimm off his wife. The beast landed gracefully a few meters away and turned to howl at the Auror. Now it was war. He leapt at the stupid fool who had blasted him.

Harry was motionless as he watched his friend battle the Grimm. He did not even register the chocked sobs and gasps that Hermione emitted; she had been bruised from the sheer force of the attack. All he could think about was that Hermione had wanted to spell him. He was confused, and hurt. Why would Hermione do that? Draco, who had been thus far ignored by the ferocious Grimm and Harry, knew why. They had to get Harry out of his seclusion. He was slowly wasting away and they all had to help. So while the rest were occupied, Draco shot the intended spell at Harry.

"_Somnus_!"

It was a simple, mild sleeping spell that was often used on sick patients and even babies. But to Harry, it was like liquid fire all over again. Apparation had been an intimate magic and that had burned his core. But this, this was a spell fired _at_ him. His mind, body and magic revolted against it. Harry's magical core heated up to supernova proportions, the magic straining to get out and neutralize the perceived threat. His veins throbbed with the intense magical power that threatened to force its way out. The spell had no effect on him; no sense of drowsiness of tiredness overcame him. But the agony was more than apparent. He could not think, he could barely breathe. The magic in him wanted to get out. Get out and destroy the threat. But it was impossible. So it raged within him, eating at him from the inside. His very bones and muscles cracked and strained to cope with the magical surge. Unable to hold it in, Harry let out a blood-curling scream of pure agony.

Draco's face was ashen. What had he done? He had hoped, for a split second, that the convulsions and the frantic clawing motions Harry made were fake; that it was all just some sick joke and Harry would just jump up and yell 'Gotcha!'. But the scream could not be faked. It filled Draco, Ron and Hermione with a sense of dread and immense guilt. What had they done?

Nightmare knew what was happening, his wizard was in pain. He sprinted over to where Harry was, screaming and convulsing on the ground, under the mockingly cheery sun. He could sense a storm raging within his master; his magic was revolting against his fragile human shell. Acting on instinct, Nightmare bit into his master's arm, drawing blood.

The shock of seeing the Grimm bite so viciously into Harry's arm woke the three friends up from their guilt-ridden thoughts.

"Draco, go get Severus! He may know how to deal with this!" Hermione shouted as she and Ron rushed to beat the Grimm away from Harry.

Not needing to be told twice, Draco apparated away to his ancestral home. The minute his feet hit the wooden floor of his foyer, Draco was off running to Severus' rooms. He hoped he wouldn't be too late.

Meanwhile, Ron and Hermione were almost hysterical in their helplessness. Every time they tried to wrench the beast from his death grip on Harry's arm, they were thrown back violently by a bright pulse of magic. Hermione was perplexed. The Grimm was a magical creature, but it should not be capable of creating a shield like that! A creature could not wield magic! Ron too was at a lost. His Auror training did not help in this situation, and his brain would not function coherently. His only thoughts were remorse and the horror of helplessness.

As his friends stood by in shock, Harry screamed as the pain lanced through his body again and again. He was dimly aware of an exterior pain in his right arm, but it paled in comparison to the fire that consumed his mind. He wished that unconsciousness would take him, like the last time, but this time his magic was too aggressive and it was keeping him from slipping into blessed darkness. So he screamed and clawed at his skin, almost tearing at his eyes to rid himself of the burning sensations. His back arched at an impossible angle, his muscles convulsed of their own accord, making him seem like a puppet being fiendishly manipulated by a sadistic puppeteer. He could not take anymore of this. No more.

Nightmare heard his master's silent plea. Biting harder into the bleeding arm, the Grimm sucked the blood like a ravenous vampire.

Severus and Draco ran in and stopped at Ron and Hermione's side just in time to see Nightmare tear into Harry's flesh. Severus' first reaction was to wrench the stupid dog away from Harry, but before he could act, there was a brilliant flash of light as a powerful pulse of magic spread through the entire area. The four spectators could only shield their eyes against the light and gasp in awe of the awesome power. It was pure, raw magic that enveloped them and ensnared their senses. It was powerful. And it was undoubtedly Harry's magic; they could _feel_ it. What horrified them was that for a split second, they could feel Harry's pain too. For just a moment, they felt an echo of the torture Harry had gone through. It left them all weak, and speechless.

When the light finally faded and they dared to open their eyes, they looked immediately to the still form of Harry. The Grimm was licking at the bite marks on Harry's arm and it seemed to be closing with astonishing speed. Severus was the first to reach Harry's side and was amazed to see no wounds or scars. Reaching out to touch Harry's arm, he realized that it was completely healed, and only the few droplets of blood that stained the grass below Harry were the only evidence that it ever was there. His amazement however, was turned to alarm when he noticed just how cold Harry felt beneath his fingers. It was just like before, almost. Harry was unconscious and as cold as ice. Lifting Harry in his arms, Severus strode towards the house and entered the sitting room, the trio close behind him. They had no idea what was going on, or what to do, so they had decided to follow Severus' lead.

Severus wrapped Harry up in a warm blanket he found and placed him gently on the rug in front of the fireplace. He reached for the matches Harry kept on the mantle above the fireplace, and attempted to start a fire. Harry was far too cold. Seeing what Severus was trying to accomplish, Hermione took out her wand.

"Here, this will be easier." Suddenly, Hermione's wand was wrenched from her grasp by a livid Severus.

"Do you want to make it worse you fool?!" Hermione, Ron and Draco only stared at Severus in shock. They had never seen him this truly enraged. A soft groan drew them all out off their daze, and Severus was by Harry's side in an instant.

"Harry. Can you speak? Say something, Harry."

"Magic, Sev. Magic," Harry managed to moan out. He was conscious but still in agony. Severus was perplexed for a moment before he understood the meaning of Harry's words. He reached out with his senses and he felt the magic humming in the air. The magic outburst had left a strong residue on everything, and it was causing Harry even more pain. Making a quick decision, Severus once again scooped the too light man in his arms and walked briskly out of the house. He had to get him as far away from the house as possible. Three confused and worried friends hurried after the Potions Master as he all but ran down the path away from the house.

They walked for a long time before they reached a small village of sorts. Severus seemed to hesitate a moment, wanting to stop, before he resolutely carried on walking. Draco was the first to express his thoughts.

"Where are we going, Severus? Where are you taking Harry?"

Sneering at his godson, Severus answered, "As far away from here as possible. You can't possibly be that dimwitted, Draco. The magic in the air is hurting Harry, so we take him away from the magic. Can't you sense it? The air is practically humming with the residue of the magical outburst." He did not need to add that the magic that hummed in the air was Harry's. The sensation was heady and rich, and was the unique signature of the Gryffindor.

Hermione was even more confused by this. Magic hurts Harry? And why would Harry be hurt by the magic in the air if it was his own? She did not understand, but the confusion did nothing to allay the strong sense of guilt that had taken hold of her. This was her fault. Her and her stupid Gryffindor-ish ideas. Meanwhile, Ron and Draco were having similar thoughts. Their minds spun with questions and thoughts, but they were made incoherent by the abruptness at which everything had gone horribly wrong. They followed behind the anxious Severus, unsure yet reluctant to bring the wrath of the Slytherin down on them again. In Severus' mind, all he could think about was Harry. Harry was hurt. Harry was in pain. He had to take Harry away from the magic. His thoughts were honed and tunneled so all he could concentrate on was getting Harry safe. As the trio of guilt-ridden friends followed behind Severus, they only hoped that they could make up for their dreadful mistake.

* * *

Author's Note:

And another chapter done! Bet none of you suspected a Grimm huh? Nightmare is in here for a very good reason, which will be revealed in due course. He is also here because I love Sirius and this is a small tribute to him. Come on, who wouldn't want a cuddly, ferocious pet that's the size of a small bear? Haha! Thanks for reading! :)


	11. Chapter 10 Guilt and Explanations Part 1

Chapter 10 – Guilt and Explanations (Part 1)

Severus was relieved to see the old, broken down cottage and unhesitatingly went down the dry, dusty path that led to its door. He had come across the barely-standing structure during one of his many explorations of the area and he had taken a liking to it immediately. It was situated in the opposite direction of Harry's own cottage from the village and was a good four to five kilometer walk from Harry's house. Severus had first planned to turn the cottage into his personal potion's lab; it's distance from Harry's home making it a perfect place to do magic without affecting the man. Now, Severus was glad that he had not started to fix up the place or set up his things, for the cottage was as magic-free as he needed it to be. Harry's previous magical outburst had not reached this far, and Harry would be able to rest and recuperate here without harm.

Severus carefully placed Harry on a table in the cottage; unlike the dwelling, the table was actually quite sturdy and didn't look like it would fall apart with every gust of wind. It had been almost an hour since Severus was assaulted by a frantic and terrified Draco, who had begged him to apparate to Harry's house. Refusing to do such a stupid thing, especially after Draco had blurted out Harry's condition, both of them had apparated to outside Harry's compound, running the rest of the way at full speed. And in hindsight, it was a very smart decision on Severus' part for he felt that any more magic added to the mix would have only caused Harry to suffer more, if that was even possible. An hour later and Harry was still unconscious and sickly pale. His skin was cold and clammy and he was starting to get feverish. Looking around, Severus realized that in their hurry, none of them had brought a coat and there was nothing around to warm Harry with.

It was then that Nightmare hopped up onto the table and laid his head on his master's chest. His wizard was sick, and hurting. This man who smelled like herbs and coffee had protected his wizard; care and concern rolled of him in waves. The Grimm decided that this man would be good for his master and raised his head to nod at the man who was watching him critically. He seemed shocked by the gesture but said nothing. Nightmare tuned back to his shivering wizard. He needed to keep him warm.

Severus was perturbed by the Grimm's actions but he knew more about these magical creatures than the three friends who stood motionless behind him, and he understood that Harry had been chosen by the big black beast. The Grimm was Harry's silent protector, and Severus should have known that it would follow them, though he was surprised that he hadn't seen or sensed it before it entered the cottage. Realizing that he could nothing for Harry until he woke, Severus turned to the trio, his anger flaring to life dangerously. Ron and Hermione had settled down on another, smaller table, Ron's arms wrapped protectively around his wife. Draco had found a small stool to settle on and had his head in his hands. All of them were still shocked by what they had witnessed, and the guilt tore through them all.

"Now, will someone care to explain to me what the bloody hell was that all about?" Severus' eyes flashed in anger but his tone was low and mockingly calm.

It was Draco who finally dredged up the courage to explain. "We were worried about Harry, we have been for awhile now," gesturing to the say that Ron and Hermione were included in the debacle. "We actually decided months ago to actively search for him. You know, to make sure he's ok. Then I noticed that you were acting all moody and depressed since you left Harry's and we decided to speed up the plans a little."

"We scryed for him with one of his old shirts," Hermione added, "We didn't actually think it would work, but it did, and we decided to go ahead with our plans and surprise him. We thought that he would need a little cheering up after….." she waved her hand about in Severus direction, "after whatever it was that got between you two."

"So you apparated to the cottage – _unannounced_ and _unwelcome_ I might add – and proceeded to frighten Harry with your stupidity. Then being such a _good_ friend, you decided to throw a spell at him that caused him the greatest amount of agony you dimwits can imagine," Severus sneered at the trio.

Ron's anger flared to life in response, "We didn't _know_ it would hurt Harry! It was a simple sleeping spell, right Draco?" Draco nodded silently and he grimaced at the memory of his horribly idiotic act.

"Oh, a _sleeping spell_, that somehow makes everything much better. Why would you even do that in the first place, tell me please Draco? Did you think Harry would need a little nap in the middle of the morning, outside, under the blazing sun?"

"I tried it first, Severus. Draco just finished what I couldn't. I wanted to help him, you must believe that. It's not good for him to be so secluded out here. He's not well, you must see that," Hermione pleaded quietly.

"I do see that, Ms Granger. I see it clearer than you, obviously. Harry needs to adjust and get better yes, but he does not need his _friends_ barging in on him unannounced and desecrating his sanctuary!"

Ron was about to explode at Severus when he was stopped by a small, weak voice.

"He's right you know. I asked you three to leave, I _begged_ you to leave. I know you didn't want to hurt me, but you did. And now I've lost my home."

Harry had made no move to get up, nor did he seem capable of the act. But he managed to open his blood-shot eyes to stare at Ron, Hermione and Draco with a kind of disappointed and aggrieved look that was much worse than his previous anger. The guilt rose up full force again within the trio and Severus was glad that the gaze was not leveled on him. Kneeling down in the dirt covered floor so he could be eye-level with the sickly man, Severus brushed his fingers gently over Harry's forehead. He was burning up.

Harry turned his gaze to Severus, who had worry and concern, and guilt, written all over his face. Suddenly, Harry forgot about the pain that coursed through his body, his attention was directly solely to the joy that coursed through his heart. It felt good to have Severus here. In spite of all his harsh words, Harry still trusted the man, and it felt good knowing Severus was watching over him. Lifting his hand to touch Severus' face gently, Harry whispered, "I'm sorry I got angry, Sev. I didn't mean what I said. I didn't."

Harry watched as disbelief, gratefulness, happiness and guilt flitted across the older man's face. "I don't deserve your forgiveness, Harry, if that is what you're giving me. I hurt you, and I broke the promise I made to you. But I cannot say that I am not…… happy."

Harry gave him a small smile that was abruptly cut short by a tremendous bout of intense shivers. Nightmare, who had been thus far ignored, nuzzled Harry's cheek with his nose. Harry weakly patted the Grimm on its head and tried another smile, this one aimed at the red-eyed beast.

"You saved me, didn't you boy? You smart smart Grimm you."

Nightmare seemed to grin and barked happily at Harry's compliment. His master was still sick, but at least he was better. And he could sense that the herbs and coffee man was making his wizard feel safer. Nightmare decided that he would tolerate the hook-nosed man, for awhile at least.

"Harry, we need to get you out of here. This isn't exactly a conducive place for healing, and you are most definitely sick."

"We can go over to our place. It's not that too far from here even if we take the train," Hermione offered, desperate to do something right.

"No," Severus sneered, "we can't. And we can't go to your Manor either, Draco." Draco, who had started to speak, snapped his mouth shut.

"I have another cottage. It's small. A lot smaller than the last one, and a little shabby, but it's the only place I can think of," Harry's voice was softer, and he seemed to be slipping back into unconsciousness.

"We'll go there, Harry. Where is it?" Severus asked softly.

"It's... It's near a small town. Asile. My place has a name; Greywood Cottage. The locals should know where it is. "

Severus nodded and carded his fingers through Harry's hair soothingly. "It's ok now, I'll get you there. Now, sleep. You need to rest and get better."

Just before he allowed himself to succumb to the beckoning darkness, Harry whispered softly so only Severus could hear, "I trust you, Severus."

--

When they finally reached the cottage, it was nearing midnight, and Harry had yet to awaken. They had traveled by purely Muggle means, taking a train most of the way and hiring a car to take them to the secluded compound. They had caused quite a scene wherever they went, what with the seemingly unconscious man in his arms, but due to Harry's diminutive size, it was easy to pass him off as Severus' sick son. Bringing Nightmare along should have been a problem, since dogs weren't really allowed on Muggle transport, but despite his huge size, he managed to escape notice and followed them calmly throughout the entire trip. The Grimm's penchant for hiding and going unnoticed was proving to be very useful.

Severus had resolutely carried Harry the entire way, not letting Ron or Draco share the burden despite their guilt-driven pleas. Harry was almost feather-light, Severus was sad to notice – he had lost a lot of weight since they last parted – but the feel of him in his arms was comforting to him. And Severus wanted to do whatever he could to recompense Harry for his stupid mistake that had driven them apart.

They had briefly passed through a small city town of sorts, and Hermione's stroke of brilliance had led her to purchase Muggle medicine and some materials of convenience. She had finally realized that magic would do more harm than good and had gone back to her Muggle roots. She had also thought to buy simple necessities like food, matches and a jacket for Harry to keep him warm. They did not know in what condition they would find the cottage, and they were loathe to wake the sleeping man to find out.

The group had been mostly silent throughout the trip, all of them lost in their own thoughts. Even Draco chose to keep quiet on the topic of their Muggle modes of transport and purchases. The situation they found themselves in was far removed from any of their expectations and their combined worry and love for the sick man pushed them to seek solace in their own guilt.

So it was a subdued, tired and worried group that entered the small cottage by the light of the dull crescent moon. The light barely penetrated the dark to illuminate the inside, but they managed to find their way through. Severus placed Harry gently on the bed he found after Ron had dusted everything off, and covered him with blankets he found in a little wardrobe. The shivering had died down long ago, but the fever was still raging and Harry's complexion was still pale and sickly. They had decided against waking Harry up to feed him the medicine during the trip, for they did not want him to panic, but Severus decided that now was a good time for that Muggle medicine.

Just as he was walking out of the room in search of Hermione, the lights all around the house suddenly came to life and covered everything with a welcome glow. Severus could now discern that the cottage itself was made up of just three small spaces. The larger space contained a lounge of sorts with a small fireplace and right next to it, a kitchen area. There were two doors branching off from that, one was Harry's room and another Severus assumed to be the bathroom. Harry had not been lying when he said that the place was small. If it had been just Harry, or even Harry and Severus, the space would have been acceptable; tight, but cozy. But with Ron, Hermione and Draco in the mix, not to mention a huge Grimm, the cottage was too crowded. Harry would not like that.

Hermione walked in from outside, a grin on her face, "Harry keeps a generator out there in a shed. I managed to get it to work. It works on fuel, and I think we have enough to last us a week."

"Wow. Harry really planned all this out, huh? I mean, a generator thingy? Dad wanted one of those once, but Mom wouldn't let him cos it was too expensive," Ron put in.

"Really? Well, I was sorting out our food, and I realized that there are some sort of canned things that I assume contains food. And there's the furniture," Draco gestured around to point out the small couch and coffee table. The kitchen even had a small island and a few chairs.

"Maybe Harry had someone look in on this place from time to time. There isn't as much dust and dirt as you would expect if the cottage had been neglected for some time," Hermione offered.

Severus kept his peace throughout the trio's speculations but inside, he was making his own conclusions. This cottage must have been Harry's destination on those rare days that he disappeared. This must have been his back-up plan if something went wrong with the other cottage. Severus had mixed feelings about this new revelation. He was glad, and proud, that Harry had had the foresight to plan his seclusion so well. He was worried for the same reason; it made Harry seem all the more frightened and anxious. Severus was also slightly hurt, for a part of him held the notion that the only reason Harry had need for a place like this was Severus' first intrusion into his sanctuary.

Shaking himself out of his stupor, Severus motioned to Hermione, "I believe we should give Harry his medicine now. I fear if we wait till morning, his condition will only deteriorate."

Hermione nodded grimly and headed to the bedroom. Draco and Ron moved to follow but were stopped by a very stern Severus.

"Harry does not need to be crowded while he is panicked and sick. You two will stay out here." Ron looked to be about to protest before Draco dragged him away. Draco knew when his godfather meant business, and he was discovering that when it came to Harry, there would be no room for discussion.

When she entered the room, Hermione was not surprised to see Nightmare comfortably lying beside her master. The Grimm had proven to be a more than capable protector for the wizard. Hermione gently shook her friend awake, and she _was_ surprised when Nightmare allowed her. He must know she was only going to help. Hermione didn't really want to do this, she dreaded to see the derision and betrayal in her best friend's eyes aimed at her, but she knew she had to. Harry stirred and moaned softly. Slowly, he cracked his eyes open and stared at her blearily. Hermione's heart gave a dull throb; she had done this to her friend. She held in the sob that threatened to escape and smiled down at Harry.

"Hey Harry. You've got to take some medicine ok? Don't worry, its plain Muggle medicine. No magic whatsoever. It will help you get better," Hermione whispered soothingly.

Harry licked his dry, chapped lips. "What if my….my…. sickness is magic induced? Muggle medicine won't help Hermione."

"Then we will find another way to help you. Even if it will not help, if will definitely not harm. Take the medicine, Harry. Please?" Severus at the doorway, and he was looking at Harry with pleading eyes. Hermione nodded her agreement to his reasoning.

Harry gave a sigh and let Hermione help him sit up. His body did not just ache, it _throbbed_ with residual pain. His head was pounding and it got worse with every little movement he made. Overall, it was not that bad really. Compared to the pain that had been tearing through him earlier in the morning, this was nothing. And Harry knew he had Nightmare to thank for that. If he hadn't known what to do, the pain would have overwhelmed him and Merlin only knew where they would be right now. Probably chatting with Dumbledore in whatever place people went when they died.

That morbid thought brought a wane smile to his face and he passively let Hermione feed him the Muggle medicine. He swallowed pills and syrups and let Hermione rub some ointment gently unto his temples. The pounding subsided just a little and the soothing coolness was very much welcome. Just as Hermione was about to exit the room after having done all she could, Harry called out to her.

"I forgive you guys, you know. Please don't think that I'm still angry at you."

Hermione turned around and Harry could see tears in her eyes. Her face betrayed her amazement, happiness and her guilt.

"We don't deserve it, Harry. But thank you. We love you, you know."

"I know, Hermy. I love you guys too. Even if you _are_ total idiots."

Smiling softly, Hermione left the room. Harry closed his eyes and tried to calm himself down to think things through. He hadn't been lying. He forgave them. They were his friends, and they meant him no harm. And he was glad Severus was back at his side. He felt complete somehow, and it was a very comforting feeling. But now he had to deal with four people trying to help him. Severus had been bad enough, and he was the most subtle and tactful of the four. Hermione and Ron would want to smother him and baby him, and he did _not_ need that. Not in the least.

Draco wouldn't be as bad, but he, like Severus, would understand his situation better than the other two. He had been a Death Eater too. Harry did not want to be reminded of his capture. He had no trouble remembering his ordeal on his own, and his dreams weren't exactly filled with rainbows and fairytales either. And there was that _other_ problem. Harry fingered the cold metal under his fingers again, just like he had the last time. It was comforting to know it was still there. It wasn't infallible, Harry knew, but the cold steel around his neck that nobody could see made him feel a lot safer. Nightmare snuggled into his side, and Harry realized that now he had another mode of protection. The Grimm had been invaluable help, and Harry stroked its head lovingly.

Suddenly, Harry felt something cold and wet being pressed to his forehead and he jerked away hurriedly. A yelp died on his lips when he opened his eyes to see a worried and sheepish Severus. Harry mocked glared at him and slapped him playfully on the arm.

"I thought you were sleeping," came Severus' equally mock indignant reply. Harry relaxed and allowed Severus to wipe him down gently with the cloth. His gentle touched soothed his burning skin and calmed his nerves. The reassuring presence of the man he trusted lulled him into a gentle doze. There was so much to deal with. So many things to think about. So many secrets to hide. But right at that moment, Harry didn't care for any of them. Severus was here. He was safe. The three people outside could wait for the explanations they so desperately wanted. Right now, he wanted to enjoy this.

"Go to sleep Harry. I'll be here when you wake up."

Harry drifted off to sleep with a slight smile on his face, confident in his knowledge that this was one promise Severus would most definitely keep.

* * *

Author's Note:

Anti-climactic ending, I know! I wanted to add some other stuff here, but that would make the chapter way too long for my liking. The title _is_ Guilt and Explanations. So this is the guilt part. Explanations come next. If I had added that here, then the chapter would officially be three times as long as any other chapter. Next one will be quite short, I think, and will be posted soon. Thanks for reading! :)


	12. Chapter 11 Guilt and Explanations Part 2

Chapter 11 – Guilt and Explanations (Part 2)

It was late afternoon when Harry's body decided that he had had enough sleep. He shuttered open his eyes to be faced with a startlingly bright room. Squinting against the harsh light, Harry absentmindedly vowed to get some thick, dark curtains into the room. A moment or two of disorientation was swiftly followed by dawning comprehension and a stiff groan. Physically, Harry felt a lot better. It seemed that Muggle medicine had worked, and Harry was glad that his aches and pains had not been magically induced after all. They were just inescapable repercussions of the convulsions and the thrashing and whatnot. With all the determination he could muster, Harry slowly tried to edge himself off the bed. Just as he was planting his feet on the warm wooden floor, an amused voice came from the door.

"And what do you think you're doing?" The Severus Snape raised eyebrow made an appearance.

"Getting up. I had thought it was rather obvious." When Harry made to move, Severus strode over and nudged him gently with his knee back unto the bed. In his hands, Severus held a tray of delicious smelling food. Upon seeing this, Harry more than happily settled back in and let Severus place the tray on his lap.

"What? No flower?"

Severus looked at Harry with a look that screamed confusion.

"A flower. You know. A little daisy or something. Everybody knows that when you bring somebody breakfast in bed, there must be food, a drink, and a flower. It's like a universal rule. So where's my flower?"

Severus scowled amusedly down at Harry, "Oh, don't worry. It's there. I crushed some Belladonna and put it in your orange juice."

Harry gaped widely in mock-fear.

"I'm not _that_ stupid you know. I _did_ pay attention in your class. Belladonna is deadly poisonous when mixed with any citrus-based drink! Waaa! You're trying to kill me! Help! Help! Save me from the greasy bat! Help!"

At the shout, Draco came bounding into the room, his eyes wide with fright.

"What? What? Who's trying to kill you?" Draco asked frantically.

At this, Harry gave a dramatic wail and pointed at Severus. "He's trying to kill me! Stupid Potions Master!"

Draco's fright disappeared only to be replaced with mock-scorn. "Well, good riddance then."

Harry gave another wail and then noticed Nightmare watching curiously from the doorway.

"Come here boy. You have to protect me from these two." When Nightmare jumped unto the bed and settled himself beside the wizard, Harry stage-whispered into his ear, "They're trying to kill me."

Nightmare turned a level gaze unto his master and then bared his teeth playfully to the other two people. His wizard was feeling better. And he was in a good mood. Nightmare liked it.

Reaching for the glass of orange juice, Harry held it out to Nightmare, "Here. You taste it."

Cocking his head to one-side, Nightmare saw the gleam in his master's eyes. He loved it when his master was being cheeky. Slowly, he sniffed the glass and dipped his long pink tongue delicately into the glass. It was orange juice. What did his master want him to do? He studied his master's face and grinned his doggy grin. Nightmare gave a sort of strangled yelp and fell to his side, playing dead.

"See! See! Oh no! Nightmare! You killed Nightmare!" Harry turned and pointed an accusing finger at the highly amused Severus. "You killed my doggy!"

"Well, it was a stupid dog anyway. Probably had fleas and some kind of deadly disease," Draco sneered. Like a flash, Nightmare bounded up and head-butted Draco in the stomach. The blonde landed beautifully on his ass with a ferocious Grimm standing imperiously over him.

"Nightmare! You're alive! And he does not have fleas!" Harry cried dramatically. Nightmare went back to his master and licked his face happily. Harry giggled.

"What is with you this morning? Did Hermione give you one of those Muggle happy drugs?" Draco was now standing up and rubbing his rear to soothe the bruising.

"What? I'm a morning person." Harry grinned down at his friend.

Severus shook his head with amusement and motioned to the miraculously still intact tray on Harry's lap, "You had better eat that before it becomes cold. And Draco, Harry is always like this in the mornings."

"Even after all that screaming and……" Draco shut his mouth when he got a fierce glare from Severus.

A suddenly subdued Harry spoke up, "Yes, Draco, even after what happened yesterday. What do you expect me to do? Throw a tantrum or sink myself into a depression?" A soft sigh escaped his lips. "It's easier to let the past be past. Today's a new day. No messy situations to mess this day up for me before it even started. Every morning is like a clean slate. Don't you get it Draco?"

Draco looked at his friend carefully. Harry really meant it. Smiling, Draco nodded his head. "Ok, scarhead."

"Nightmare. Head-butt him again will ya?" Nightmare once again bounded off the bed but this time Draco turned tail and ran out of the room. Nightmare happily chased after the blonde. His master told him to head-butt the man, and he was more than happy to oblige.

Digging in to his breakfast, Harry motioned for Severus to take a seat on the bed, which he did.

"So where's Ron and Hermione and why didn't they come running to save me from you?" Harry asked around a mouthful of eggs.

Severus grimaced, "Close your mouth, Harry. Your friends are out at that town we passed on the way here. They're getting supplies for the house."

"Did you ask them to get chocolate? I feel like some chocolate."

"I do not think that was on the list, but I would hazard a guess that Mr. Weasley would undoubtedly get his hands on some, if his reputation is anything to go by."

"You mean the one about having a sweet tooth the size of London? Yup. It's true. And thanks for breakfast."

"No problem, Harry."

--

Despite the good start to the day, the atmosphere of polite civility that was forced by his friends had put undue pressure on Harry, and by early evening, Harry was forced to seek solitude outside, in the light of the setting sun. The cottage and the compound were far smaller than his first sanctuary, but it was also far more secluded and removed. It was at least an hours walk from the nearest neighbor and another hour to the nearest town. This town, like the previous village, was accessible by a cross-country train. And like in all small villages, there was no sign of magic anywhere. The wizarding community, Harry knew, was 

comparatively small when compared to their Muggle counterparts, and thus wizards tend to congregate together in large droves. So there were many small towns and secluded areas that held no sign of magic or the people who practiced it.

And as Harry took in the small backyard, that included a shed for his generator, he allowed himself to grieve for his lost home. He had found the previous compound by chance, and had fallen in love with its size and the sense of freedom it gave him. He had loved working on his garden; it had been a source of endless joy for him. And he had spent many an afternoon reading a book under the great willow tree. And the house itself was cozy. The perfect size for him, and later on, him and Severus. But now, he was stuck in a place he had only sought out and kept as a last resort. A place that was far too small for five people and a full-grown Grimm. Harry felt claustrophobic.

Harry sighed. And the trio of friends was not helping matters. They were overly cautious and sensitive around him and it irked him more than anything else. They treated him like a fragile baby, and he hated it. Even Draco was being extra careful. And that was after the lesson Harry thought he had given the blonde that very morning. Harry wanted to be happy, and forget about events of the day before. But they wouldn't let him.

The only saving grace was Severus. He acted the same, and treated Harry the same, and Harry was thankful for it. Even though he had tried to hard to push the man away so long ago, now that he was back by his side, Harry was desperate to have him stay. He chose to ignore the part of his conscience that was screaming at him to push Severus away. Get him out of his life. Get him out of harm's way. Harry ignored that. He wanted Severus beside him. He felt a lot better with that man around. Harry sighed again.

As the sun finally set beyond the horizon and the wind started to bring with it a chill, Harry felt a wet nose being pushed into his slack hand. Harry smiled down at Nightmare who trotted back into the house. It was his way of saying that Harry had to deal with the three nosy friends who were crowding his new home.

When Harry entered the sitting room, all eyes turned to him immediately. Three pairs of eyes stared at him with consternation and a healthy sprinkling of guilt while onyx eyes stared at him with quiet concern and worry. It was Severus who looked away first and headed into the little kitchen. He prepared a hot cup of tea and placed into Harry's hands. He then led the unresisting man to the couch and coaxed him to sit down. Severus knelt in front of Harry and looked into his eyes. Severus was so very close to him, but somehow Harry didn't mind. What he did mind was the number of people in the small space. He still had not gotten over his fear, and the cramped quarters disturbed him. Nightmare plopped himself down in front of the fire and gave him an encouraging bark. He could do this.

"You don't have to say anything. Let these… idiots figure things out for themselves. Do not allow them to pressure you, do you understand me Harry?" Severus tone was harsh, but it belied the concern and worry that shone from his eyes.

Sighing heavily, Harry nodded. When Severus made to move away, Harry stopped him with a gentle hand. He slowly pulled Severus down unto the small couch and snuggled into his side. If Harry's gaze had not been directed to the comforting cup of tea he held in his hands, he would have seen the slightly surprised but secretly delighted look on Severus' face. He would also have seen the utterly shocked faces of Ron and Hermione. Draco had the same expression, but this was quickly replaced with a knowing smirk.

As it was, by the time Harry managed to gather himself properly and look at his friends, they had also managed to compose themselves and the guilty, curious looks were firmly on their faces again. Draco and Hermione had sat themselves on the two kitchen chairs, which they had dragged in front of the fireplace. Ron sat on a small stool that he had placed beside Hermione. They were all facing him and the expectation emanating from them was almost palpable.

Belatedly realizing that there was a small fire in the hearth, Harry stared at the flickering flames. He did not want to do this. And Severus said that he didn't have to. But these were his friends, and they definitely had their own suspicions already. What should he do?

"I don't really understand what you want to know exactly. I know you have your suspicions. But I don't want to hear them. And I don't want to confirm or deny them. I just don't want to talk about it," Harry said calmly but the pleading was in his eyes.

The three friends were silent for awhile, and they seemed to accept Harry's decision. It was Ron who broke the silence first.

"So how long have you two been an item?" he asked, gesturing to Harry and Severus, who looked very comfortable with each other on the small couch.

The question was so far from any expectations Harry had held that for a moment he wondered if he had misinterpreted Ron's words. He closed his eyes and shook his head as if to clear his ears. When he opened his eyes, Ron still had a questioning, serious look on his face and was still motioning towards the two of them. Harry couldn't help himself. The question was so sudden and so exceedingly _not_ what he had been anticipating that he laughed. Harry let loose rip-roaring gales of laughter that had him doubled over, clutching his sides. Harry laughed till tears came to his eyes and he was out of breath. He laughed for what seemed like hours. It was just so funny!

When Harry finally managed to calm down and wipe away the tears from his eyes, he looked at Severus. He was still in a state of shock, it seemed. Slowly, hesitatingly, Severus opened his mouth to speak.

"An item?"

That sent Harry on another wave of side-splitting laughter. This time, he couldn't stay on the couch and ended up rolling on the floor in rapture. He hadn't laughed this hard in a long time. It was hilarious.

When he calmed down again, he plopped himself down on the couch with a grin. All four people and one Grimm were looking at him in puzzlement, though Severus still seemed to be in some kind of a daze. He looked at them and shrugged.

"What? It's funny."

"So I'm guessing that you two are not seeing each other intimately?" Draco commented dryly.

"Well, Severus _has_ seen me in my bunny outfit. That's kinda intimate," Harry replied.

"What?!" three indignant voices rang through the air.

"I have _not_ seen you in your bunny outfit, if you even have one. I assure you, I would have clawed my own eyes out at that image," Severus put in somewhat amusedly.

Harry pouted and punched Severus lightly on the arm. "Spoil sport."

"Can we _not_ talk about this? The thought of you and Severus together is weird enough. The though of you in a bunny suit is more than mildly disturbing," Ron said with a grimace on his face.

Everyone nodded, except Harry, who pouted some more. The tension in the room had diminished, and Harry himself was feeling much calmer. He was still tense, but it had lessened considerably. These were his friends; he had to remember that. Snuggling closer with Severus, Harry decided to at least tell them something.

"I'm sorry that I worried you guys. And I know it was wrong for me to just run away without any explanation. But I needed space. I needed to be away from people in general, and if I had told any of you, you would have all come running, all trying to help me at once. And I didn't need that. I just wanted, and still want, to be alone."

"I think I can understand that Harry. And we are very sorry we intruded on your privacy. But I stand by what I said. This isn't healthy for you, Harry. You have to let us help," Hermione pleaded.

Sighing, Harry looked at his friends. "I know Hermione. But just not all at once ok? Even now I'm not comfortable. It took me months to get comfortable with Severus, and he's just one person. I don't think I can handle so many people in such a small space. And then there's the magic thing….."

"Yes, well. No need to explain that if you don't want to, Harry. You'll tell us when you can right?" Ron smiled at him encouragingly. Harry smiled back and nodded. Ron was his best friend. He had spent years sleeping in the same dorm with the guy. If there was anybody who understood him and his need for privacy, it would be Ron.

"Have you talked about it with anyone?" Draco asked. Looking up, Harry shook his head in the negative.

"Not even Severus?" Once again, Harry shook his head at Draco.

"He is not ready for that yet. He will tell us when he is," Severus put in, pulling Harry closer to him. It was amazing how fast he had become used to protecting Harry like that.

Draco's expression turned to one of utter seriousness. "I know, Harry. I understand, I really do. It's just that talking about it, saying it out loud, is the only way you can truly heal. Muggle psychiatrists demand it. They say it is the first step to healing."

Harry could see the anguish and guilt Draco was hiding behind his eyes, and he was curious. "How would you know that, Draco?" he asked softly.

Sighing heavily, Draco slumped in his chair and stared into the flickering flames that were just beginning to die down. Harry had only ever seen Draco this broken up during the war. Draco had been a spy, and the stress of living a lie and the constant threat of a painful death had stretched him almost to his limits. It was Harry that had helped the man pull through and it was during those times that they had bonded. The relationship he shared with Draco was more personal and somehow different from the relationship he had with Ron and Hermione. He had never thought about it at length, but it was times like these that he could sense something was terribly wrong with his friend, even if the others could not.

After a long quiet moment, Draco started to speak hesitantly. "After the war, no, during the war, the things I did, the things I had to do…. they disturbed me. I never wanted to be a Death Eater, you know that. But I had to pretend to be one. All the killing. And the torturing……. There was this one time I remember…. that I can't seem to forget is more like it. They brought in a Muggle family. A mother, father and a child. This pretty little girl with blonde hair and the cutest face. They were terrified, naturally. The parents did everything they could to try and protect their little girl. But what are two Muggles against ten or so powerful wizards? They tortured and killed the parents. They left the girl for me. Voldemort was watching me, and I couldn't fail, I just couldn't. Don't you understand! I couldn't fail!"

Draco had shouted his words into the fire and not once did he look at anybody else in the room. Nightmare, who had been watching the blonde with critical eyes, crept up to Draco in his silence. Draco stroked the Grimm's head absent-mindedly and seemed to calm down.

"Before I killed her, she looked up at me. This little angel. She had pink bows in her hair. These tiny pink bows. Who wears bows anymore?" his voice had dropped to a whisper. "She looked up at me. They hadn't touched her at all. Just let her watch her parents being brutally murdered. When she looked up at me, she had tears in her eyes. But that wasn't the worse part. Her eyes were dead. Dead. Like she had already died. Like her soul had left her, and she was only a shell. I pitied her. Then I killed her. Avada Kedavra'd my way to the Dark Lord's good graces."

Draco trailed off again. And it was a long time before he managed to speak.

"And then losing Ginny……" Draco's voice broke at her name. "Losing her was the hardest. For the longest time, I blamed myself. If only I had been a better spy and found out about the attack sooner. If only I had gotten there sooner. Ginny wouldn't be dead. Neither would Molly, or Arthur."

"Now stop right there, Malfoy. None of that was your fault. Don't take the blame away from Voldemort. That maniac is the one who should carry all the blame and the sin. He'll carry it all the way to the lowest pits of hell. It's not your fault, do you understand me Malfoy? My sister and my parents died for a cause they believed in. They died fighting for the Light."

Ron's voice was heavy with pain and hidden emotion. He had dealt with the horrendous loss in his own way. He had only ever broken down in front of Hermione and after that, he had made a conscious decision to live his life like his parents and his sister would want him to; with joy and laughter and love. He would not let Draco take the blame for something that had been equally devastating to them both.

"Thanks Ron. I know all you say is true, I've been told so many times. But it's gonna take a while yet before I can actually _believe_ it, you know?"

Ron nodded to show his understanding. It had taken him a while too to come to grips with the fact that he had not been his fault either. For the longest time, he had felt that if he had just been at the Burrow that day too, he could have saved his family. It had taken Hermione's constant support and love to convince him otherwise.

Sighing heavily, Draco continued, "All of that. Ginny and the little girl……It messed me up. All the things I had to do. During the war, after the war, I couldn't seem to get a grip on myself. It was like I was unraveling, slowly, but surely. I was not strong like you, Severus. I'm not as strong as you."

At this, Draco turned to bestow a pleading look on Severus. His eyes sought acceptance and forgiveness. He wanted forgiveness for being weak.

"There is no comparison Draco. You are not weak. I am merely…. lacking the emotions that make you feel this way. It is not a good thing to be unfeeling, Draco." Severus looked at his godson critically. He had not known just how much Draco had been affected by his spying, and he was sad that he had overlooked yet another who needed help. He unconsciously pulled Harry even closer to his side.

Draco nodded at him silently and turned back to stare at the flames.

"I was so close to breaking down. And don't you dare blame yourself, Harry, "he gave Harry a quick glance, "I'm better at hiding than you are. I didn't want anybody near me. I wouldn't have let you help even if you wanted to."

"In the end, I couldn't deal with it by myself anymore. I started looking for help. The thing was, I didn't want to talk to anybody I knew. I felt ashamed. I wanted a total stranger, someone who didn't know me before the bloody war started. I don't know how, but I happened on the concept of Muggle psychiatry. I don't know why we don't have one; it's quite a sound principle. Anyway, I found one. A Squib. Knew something about the war. Just enough to understand what I was saying, I guess. And he believed me. He always said that talking and admitting is the very first step to recovery. And he's right, you know."

Draco turned to Harry suddenly and looked at him with pleading eyes.

"I understand, Harry. I had guilt to deal with, and look how bad it got to me. You were at the other end of the wand, Harry. That would be a lot worse."

"Don't belittle your own pain, Draco. Your pain, your guilt, is no less than my pain. Nor is it any worse. Our pain is our own, Draco. And it's our own hell. Don't compare our pain," Harry whispered softly, not looking anyone in the eye.

Sitting back, Draco nodded. "You're right Harry. It can't be compared. But it can be helped. I know you don't want to. Merlin, _I_ sought out the stupid psychiatrist myself but I still didn't want to talk about it. But it helps. It really does. Trust me, Harry."

"I do trust you, Draco. And I know what you said, but I'm sorry I wasn't there for you."

"Like you said, Harry. We were suffering in our own hell. Imagine what would happen if we _had_ met each other. Mutual destruction."

There was a long pause.

"You're right. The level of angst between the two of you would have fuelled a million burgeoning young teens," Ron quipped.

Everyone stared at Ron in silence for a moment before bursting out in laughter. When they finally came down from their tension-induced high, Ron was grinning smugly.

"You know what? I think that's enough progress for one day. Harry knows we're here for him. Harry will tell us when he's ready. Draco spilled his soul. We still love him. He knows we're there for him. Yup, I think that's enough. Let's do something fun," Hermione said with a happy smile.

"What? Hermione Granger advocating fun? Hermione Granger? Someone alert the Daily Prophet!" Draco shouted, waving his hands about wildly. Hermione slapped Draco on the arm, but she had an amused smile on her face.

"Oh, I know! Hot chocolate! This is a good time for hot chocolate!" Ron leapt up in excitement.

"Oh yeah! Hot chocolate! Did you get marshmallows Ron? Tell me you got marshmallows!" Harry cried, equally excited.

Ron suddenly became very serious and looked Harry critically in the eye, "I got marshmallows."

Giving a loud squeal of glee, Harry ran to the kitchen, followed closely by Ron. Since the kitchen was not more than a few steps away, it was a short run and the two were happily making hot chocolate, munching marshmallows to soothe the wait.

Hermione was used to her husband's antics and headed to the kitchen to 'supervise'. Draco and Severus looked at each other and shared an amused glance.

"Gryffindors," Draco snorted.

"Slytherins!" the three in the kitchen shouted in unison and glared at Draco who stuck out his tongue at them.

"Kids," Severus grimaced.

* * *

Author's Note:

Arrgggghhhh! I am so sorry for this late chapter! Let me explain. 2+ weeks ago, I went on a holiday to melbourne all by myself with the secure thought that I wld be able to write and post this chapter, and the rest, from there. But disaster struck in the way of fast diminishing finances. I cldnt find an internet café I cld afford to go to. I am so sorry!

So this is the seriously overdue chapter 11! And 12 will be up soon! I promise! It WILL be posted by tomorrow! Please don't skewer me!

Hope you enjoy this chapter anyway…. Despite it's lateness. :)


	13. Chapter 12 Sorting Out Matters

Chapter 12 – Sorting Out Matters

"Harry! We're leaving now!" Hermione called out to her friend, who was busy explaining the intricacies of a generator to Severus in the back shed. Ron, Hermione and Draco were all ready to head out and grant Harry his sanctuary back. They had already spent two nights in the cottage and since they had reached their new accord and reestablished their firm friendship, the trio felt that their work was done. At least for now.

Nightmare came bounding out from the backyard first and he gave each of the trio a sloppy kiss on the face. Harry and Severus soon followed, the smaller man with a big grin on his face and the Potions Master with an expression of perplexed amusement. Severus would never understand these Muggles. Generators and electricity seemed so crude to him. Why put your faith in something so unreliable? Magic would never fail. And it was available in copious and ever-replenishing amounts. He shook his head in frustration. He would never understand Muggles.

Harry grinned at his friends and his friends grinned right back. Harry was glad these people loved him, and the trio was glad Harry was safe. Hermione, in a fit of emotion, reached out to envelope Harry in a hug. Startled by the girl's sudden movement, Harry flinched and stepped back away from her; a habit he was finding very hard to break.

Hermione stopped her advance in surprise.

'I shouldn't have done that. Now look what you've done Hermione Granger!' she berated herself. Stepping back, away from Harry, Hermione wondered how Harry had survived the celebration party so long ago. Everybody, including herself, had hugged him and crowded him and generally did everything to make his time there a living hell. How could she have not seen it?

Seeing the guilt and anguish cross his friend's face, Harry was sorry that he had flinched. He couldn't help it. And it wasn't Hermione's fault.

"Hey, Hermy, don't move ok?" Harry asked gently. He slowly moved towards the woman and hugged her close. Hermione dared not move or raise her hands to reciprocate the hug for fear of startling the man, but she was grateful that he had allowed her this. It reminded her that her friend was _not_ broken beyond repair and that he would eventually get better. When Harry let her go, she smiled at him.

"Ok. Ok. That's my wife you're mauling, Harry. I get pretty territorial you know," Ron joked with a smile.

"Good thing you married her first, cos if you hadn't I, I would have." Harry smirked.

"Enough already with the mushy stuff. We've got to go, we've got a long way to walk," Draco interrupted, "Now scarhead, don't forget to mail us ok? If you can't use an owl, than use that Muggle snail mail thingy. I have no idea why Muggles would use something as slow as a snail to send mail but……..What?" Draco turned indignant as Ron, Hermione and Harry laughed at him. Even Severus was smirking at him.

Harry was first to recover and swatted at Draco playfully, "It's not sent by snails you twat. And I promise I won't forget. I'll get Severus to send you guys my letters. Send yours back with him ok? I don't want you guys to send your owls."

As the words left his lips, a strong sense of nostalgia hit Harry. He was forcibly reminded of his own owl Hedwig, who had died in the war. If she was still alive, Harry realized belatedly that he would have had to give her away. Owls in the wizarding world were always covered in numerous spells of all kinds to protect them on their perilous journeys when delivering mail. He would not be able to stand something so magical around him. Harry gave silent thanks that Nightmare had no innate 

magic that could frighten him off. The Grimm had been a true companion throughout the lonely days without Severus.

Waving to his friends as they headed down the path away from him, Harry was suddenly filled with a feeling of true contentment and happiness. He had Severus with him. He had Nightmare. And he his friends were there for him. He finally had people to share the burden with. Not all the burdens, for he still had a few secrets he kept locked away, but at least some of them. He was surrounded by people who cared for him, and that made Harry a very happy man.

--

As the trio walked, they filled the silence with companionable conversation. Draco was aware that the couple was treating him with caution and an extra dose of sensitivity now, after the confession of last night, and it irked him a little. Harry and Severus had acted no different after the revelation, and they seemed to understand Draco's need for normalcy. Being treated with special care only made Draco feel more like a weakling, or a freak show. As these thoughts ran through his head, Draco was hit with the abrupt realization that he had treated Harry the exact same way. No wonder he had looked so put off.

Draco, Ron and Hermione parted ways at the small town. They said their goodbyes and made promises to meet up again and visit Harry. All of them were tired from two nights spent tossing and turning on uncomfortable furniture, and they were worn out from the emotional highs and lows. Ron happily took his wife home after final goodbyes and Draco stood alone at the very edge of the town, hidden behind a large neglected storage house.

Draco sighed and closed his eyes. Heursed himself for being so blind; for being so caught up in his own anguish that he had overlooked Harry's – in his opinion – greater pain. They had_ all_ overlooked the fact that Harry had actually been captured by Voldemort. How stupid of them. But then again, Harry had seemed to be fine, after he had woken up from his coma. He had shared in their celebrations and accepted their praise. Draco knew that there were still a lot of people out there who thought that Harry's disappearance had been a daring attempt to kill the Dark Lord single-handedly. But Draco knew better. He knew that he understood Harry's situation better than Ron and Hermione. He knew that the Gryffindor couple probably had several ideas of what Harry had had to go through at the hands of Voldemort. He also knew that whatever they imagined paled in comparison to what probably actually happened. Draco had been a Death Eater; he had the faint scar on his arm to prove it. He knew the lengths Voldemort would go to, to get a prisoner's submission. And Harry had been his greatest rival. His archenemy.

Draco also knew what he had to do. He had to know to save Harry. He had to find out how far they went. But first, he had to make the necessary plans. Taking a deep breath, he apparated away.

--

"I'll have to start my garden all over again. And I won't be able to have it as big as before. What do you think I should plant, Severus?" Harry asked the man who was pottering about in the kitchen. Harry himself was staring out the window looking into his front yard. It was small, and so was the backyard. There were large expanses of empty space all around the little cottage, but Harry's compound was cordoned off by a rickety picket fence all around, and the space that he had within that was small and cramped.

Severus moved to stand beside Harry and sensed the sadness within him. "I think you should plant whatever you want Harry."

"But there's not enough space Severus," Harry pointed out; gesturing to the fence that he felt was closing him in.

"Well, the logical idea would be to remove the fence. Harry, look at this space. There is a multitude of empty fertile ground going to waste. We can just remove the imbecilic boundary and have the garden as big as you desire. And if you still want a fence, we can just build a new one around the garden," Severus commented softly.

Harry's mood instantly lifted and he looked at Severus with grateful eyes and a shining smile. "That's brilliant! Oh, but I only paid for this compound. This stupid small plot of land." Harry's eyes dimmed again.

"Who's to say that you can't buy the land from the Muggle people? You are not poor Harry. And I, as lord of the Snape family, am not wanting for wealth either." Severus struck a lord-ish pose that made Harry laugh. "And since I refuse to leave or be kicked out again, we will do this together."

"Oh yes! And with my Gryffindor powers of persuasion and your Slytherin powers of Death Glares and Death Sneers, we will get the land and build the finest garden ever!" Harry shouted in glee.

"If I didn't know better, I would think you are still a first year at Hogwarts," Severus said, amused.

"You're mean. Nobody likes a meanie," Harry pouted then headed to the kitchen where Severus had abandoned the lunch preparations.

Smiling inwardly, Severus followed and fell back into the routine he had been abruptly forced to give up. He missed this quiet companionship. And as they sat down to a delicious lunch, Severus marveled at Harry's good mood. It was just two days ago that his world came crashing down on him. Harry lost his home, suffered through the greatest pain, and was betrayed by his friends. But now, Harry seemed happier than before.

On the other side of the table, Harry was having similar thoughts. He was happy now. He had tried so hard to hide the pain from his friends; he never wanted to be a burden to them. But now that they had found out, he was relieved. They knew about his capture at least, and they didn't shun him or try to smother him. It was nice knowing that he didn't have to carry the burden of the memories by himself. Harry knew that all he had to do was call and Ron, Hermione and Draco would come running to save him from his nightmares. And Severus was here. His very own Potions Master was back. He knew Severus hadn't meant harm with the apparation, and though he still felt like a ticking time bomb, he was very reluctant to go back to the lonely days and nights. Harry had made a compromise with his conscience. He would keep Severus around, because he needed him, but on the slightest inkling of danger, Severus would go. Harry didn't know how, but he would have to go.

Harry's mood became more muted when he thought about his other, bigger secret. He had managed to keep it locked up tight and even last night's heavy conversation had not even touched the topic he had been dreading. Everybody knew about his capture. Nobody asked how he had escaped. He was glad that his friends were preoccupied with his healing. And Severus was too, though Harry suspected that he would be the first to ask the dreaded question, if it ever arose.

Severus sensed Harry's downward spiraling thoughts and wondered at their cause. Letting Harry have his privacy, Severus spent most of the day cataloging the things they needed and the things they would have to accomplish to finally start on the garden. Harry spent the day lying around and thinking. It seemed that their roles had reversed, at least momentarily. It was Severus that felt a sudden rush of domesticity and it was the usually chirpy Harry that brooded and reminisced. It was a startling change, but not an entirely unpleasant one.

But as evening descended and dinner was served and eaten, the two found themselves on again on the sitting room couch in a most comfortable position. The couch itself was a bit smaller, and the room itself not as big as the last, but Harry could still curl up at Severus' side and a fire was still burning merrily enough to lose their thoughts in. So they sat in silence, neither of them with their customary book, for their new home was devoid of any reading materials.

Harry was contemplating his own secrets. And wallowing in self-doubt and fear. Having Severus near was calming, but it seemed, not calming enough. Severus was worried about Harry, he had been in an unusual mood the entire day. He wondered if maybe it was because of his friends leaving, but somehow Severus knew that it went much deeper than that. Just then, Severus noticed Nightmare settled comfortably in front of the fire, his head resting on his front paws, his eyes closed in a light doze. He looked like an adorable, abnormally large puppy, just waiting to be petted. Severus smirked.

"Harry? How in Merlin's name did you get a Grimm as a pet?" The amusement in Severus voice was palpable.

Harry snapped out of his depressing thoughts at the unexpected question and couldn't help but turn to Severus and grin.

"Funny story that one. I was coming back from the market, after some shopping, and right there, sitting on the front porch was this huge dog. And no matter how cute he looks now, usually he looks really menacing. I swear, I almost dropped my stuff and ran the other way," Harry grinned.

"And why didn't you?"

"Umm.. cos he would have caught up with me anyway and torn me to shreds?" Harry said innocently, causing Severus to laugh. Nightmare opened one eyes and stared at the two wizards on the couch. He knew they were talking about him. Harry noticed this and turned his grin to the Grimm.

"Don't worry, Nightmare. I'm just telling Severus here how good a companion you've been these past few weeks. Much better than this greasy git." Harry nudged Severus in the side gently.

"Oh, so my fine company and ridiculously sharp wit was replaced by a drooling, insane dog?" Severus asked, feigning annoyance.

"Yup."

Nightmare barked his approval. Harry paused for a second, staring Severus critically in the face, before he added.

"And he's a better Potions Master too."

Glaring at the Grimm, Severus snorted disdainfully, "He may be the best non-human Potions Master. But I am most definitely the most skilled _human_ practitioner of the fine art in Britain."

At this, Harry started giggling uncontrollably and Nightmare yelped along with him. The Grimm had never seen his master this happy. He was glad he hadn't decided to maul the herbs and coffee man.

Once Harry settled down into his side again, and Severus had draped his arm across the smaller man, the mood settled and was considerably lighter than before.

As he watched the flickering flames, Harry spoke. "I missed you Severus."

"And I you, Harry." Taking a deep breath, Severus continued, "I am sincerely apologetic for my actions. I never meant to cause you any harm."

"We've been over this Sev. I know that. I knew that even then. I… I.. I was just scared," Harry stammered, too afraid to look the man in the eye.

"You had every right to be scared, Harry. I had caused you pain. I had broken my promise to you." Severus' guilt was climbing back out again to consume him, but he swallowed it down. Harry was in not a very stable condition now, emotionally, and Severus had to concentrate on him, not his own swirling emotions.

Severus watched how Harry hesitated and went quiet. When he spoke next, it was on instinct.

"But that's not the main reason why you were scared."

Harry whipped his head up to stare at Severus in shock and a trace of fear. Severus just looked at him calmly, his gaze devoid of judgment or pressure. Harry's mind was swirling. Did he know? And if he did, how?

"You do not have to tell me anything, Harry. We're all entitled to our own little secrets. You have shared some of them with me, and that is more than I could ever ask for," Severus said gently while softly caressing Harry's cheek.

The tears spilled from Harry's eyes unbidden. What had he ever done to deserve someone so kind and understanding? Severus was truly a blessing. Harry would never have guessed that it would be Severus that would understand him so completely and be the one who comforted him the most. The Potions Master had scared the living daylights out of him in the first few Hogwarts years and he had tried everything to make Harry's life as hard and unfair as possible. The irony of the situation suddenly struck home with Harry and despite his tears, he burst out into a round of laughter.

Severus was getting increasingly worried. When Harry had started to cry, he had not really known what to do, or what the cause of it was. And now, Harry was crying and laughing at the same time. The laughter was loud and long and bordered on hysterical. Severus held on tightly to the smaller man, afraid that he was going to hurt himself somehow.

It took a few minutes for Harry to stop shuddering, signaling the end of his abrupt round of amusement. Finally realizing just how tense Severus was and how tight he was being held, Harry looked up into the older man's eyes, and smiled. The worry in Severus' heart drained away and he smiled weakly.

"You have had more fits of laughter in these two days than I have ever seen from you before."

"I'm just happy."

"And why would that involve tears and hysterical laughter?"

"I don't know. I'm just really glad you're here, however sappy that may sound. You don't know just how much I appreciate you being here. And the 'hysterical laughter', as you put it was mainly due to the irony of the situation. Imagine." Harry paused for effect. "What would James Potter or Sirius Black do if they were here right now?"

Severus' expression took on a look of mock-contemplation. "I imagine they would faint dead away. Or maybe that's just wishful thinking."

"Exactly, Sev," Harry paused. "Though I think Dumbledore would come up with something like 'I told you so'."

Severus and Harry grinned at each other happily.

* * *

Author's Note:

Ok, I was kinda late with this chapter too. I had a lot of difficulty making the front part sound like I wanted it to sound. And it felt too choppy for me. It's still not very flowy now, but it's the best I can do. I like the ending though. Haha….

Hope you enjoyed reading it! :)


	14. Chapter 13 Truth Comes Calling

Chapter 13 – Truth Comes Calling

The chill that surrounded the island was harsh and it seemed to cut straight to the bone. The sky was always overcast and ominous, and the sea surrounding the jagged piece of land was eternally choppy and menacing. Stepping unto the island itself was like entering another world; a cruel world. As he tucked his coat more securely about himself, Draco stared up at the swirling towers and midnight black stones that made up Azkaban prison. His feet were unsure and hesitant as he trudged up the path to the prison gates. All his happiness, all his courage, had been left on the shore before he even stepped unto the rickety old boat that brought him to the forsaken island.

The chill and the darkness, Draco knew, were caused by the Dementor' evil, but the Dementors themselves were long gone. The Dementors had sided with Voldemort during the war – as had been expected by everyone except the foolish Minister of Magic – and the danger they had wrought was devastating. Hundreds of people had been Kissed, never to be whole again. And still thousands more had been hunted and traumatized by the vicious creatures. Draco couldn't help but remember the children's tale that was told to all wizarding children. It was fabled that the Dementors that roamed the earth had been released from the legendary Pandora's Box itself. These damned creatures sucked out the souls of helpless victims and sentenced them to an eternity in an endless void. They say that Pandora had closed the lid of the enchanted box in time to seal in the most deadly creature, Death. But as Draco shivered against the residual magic of the Dementors' taint, he held the firm belief that Death was a much more merciful plague.

As Draco stepped inside the stone walls, he was met by a team of stony-faced guards. He had been expected, it seemed. Without ever uttering a word, the guards made Draco relinquish his wand and sign a binding contract to release the Ministry of any liability when it came to his safety within the prison grounds. These people were serious about their job, and Azkaban could do horrible things to a person.

After the formalities were dealt with, the two guards broke away to lead Draco to the intended cell. Draco knew that the guards' following him for 'protection sake' was only a weak pretense. He was a known Death Eater, and he would be treated with disdain and caution most probably until the day he died. No one, besides his friends, seemed to care than he had always been a spy for the light. It seemed that the wizarding world loved to judge people based on their scars; Draco and Severus with their faint marks on their forearms, and Harry with the famous scar on his forehead.

Sighing almost inaudibly, Draco followed the guards deeper and deeper into the prison. The air became increasingly colder as they went along and the depressive, sinister mood that permeated the entire building seemed to get stifling the further down they went. This was where they kept the most high-risk criminals. Dementors had prowled here constantly, unlike the upper floors where they made routine passes twice a day. The walls and floor reeked with despair and Draco could almost hear the echo of the helpless prisoner's screams. But the halls were actually deadly silent.

Draco was so caught up in the fear and tension that was building up inside him that he almost bumped right into the guard in front of him when he stopped abruptly. Shaking his head to dispel the last of the echoing screams, Draco turned to look at the heavy metal door that stood between him and one of Voldemort's greatest supporters; Lucius Malfoy.

The guard that he had almost collided with stepped in front of the door and waved his wand in a complicated manner. The harsh sound of metal grinding against stone lasted only a few moments before the door grated open slowly. It was then that the other guard turned to face Draco, and uttered the first words he had heard since stepping into the prison.

"You have fifteen minutes. Do not even try to attempt wandless magic, this room has wards to prevent that. We will wait outside. If at anytime we suspect that you are conspiring with the prisoner, or are giving unnecessary aid, we are authorized to take you into custody with any amount of force required."

Nodding grimly, Draco took a hesitant step into the dark cell. The light from the dying torch outside barely pierced the enveloping gloom. Draco stood on the threshold, unwilling to step further into the disgusting place; the stench alone was overpowering. Taking another hesitant step, Draco stopped and vowed that this was as far as he would go.

Clearing his throat weakly, Draco called out, "Lucius Malfoy. Come to the front where I can see you."

For a long moment, Draco thought that nothing was going to happen. Maybe his _father_ was too sick or hurt to move. Maybe he was too stubborn to move. In his heart, Draco believed in the latter. It was just like Lucius to make people wait, and deny others of what they wanted. He had waited 17 years for a declaration of love or pride from his father, but it never came, and Draco had turned to the Light, where he had found those two emotions in abundance.

Suddenly, there was a soft shifting noise from the darkest corner of the room and Draco's breath caught in his throat. Slowly, like a specter, the malnourished and dirtied, but unbroken form of Lucius Malfoy emerged into the feeble light. The famous Malfoy platinum blonde hair was grimy and blackened. The former ethereally white skin was now a sickly pale. But the Malfoy pride was still intact. The Death Eater carried himself with regal pomposity that belied his squalid surroundings. His head was held high, and in his eyes was a challenge. It was a challenge of superiority and power that Lucius somehow always seemed to win.

"Hello, _son_."

The voice of this man, whom Draco had once held in the highest regard, was cold and mocking. It was so like the voice of his childhood that Draco was unable to control the shudder that escaped him. This was the voice that had made him dance like a puppet on a string. It was this voice that had driven Draco to great lengths just to please and serve. But Draco was different now, wasn't he? And it wasn't him that had disgraced the Malfoy name; it was his father. With renewed courage, Draco straightened his posture with confidence and glared at the Dark Lord's former second-in-command.

"Hello, Lucius. I have a few questions for you. And you will answer them." Draco's tone was firm and neutral, betraying none of the turmoil he felt inside.

"What? No hug for your only father, Draco? And no threats on my life? How unlike you. Wouldn't you like to take a swing at me, perhaps?" Lucius' grin was malicious.

"And sully myself? No thank you. The first question. Were you part of the plan by the Death Eaters to kidnap Harry Potter?"

"So this is about your little boyfriend, eh _son_? I assumed you came here out of the goodness of your heart; to see your old man again."

"I'll repeat the question. Were you are were you not part of the plan to kidnap Harry Potter?" Draco's tone held a bit of threat now. Lucius was baiting him, he knew that, and he would be damned if he fell for it. But he could not deny that the man's words stung.

A steely glint sprung up in Lucius eyes and he smirked nastily. "Yes, Draco. I was. Of course I was. I planned the entire thing actually, and it was pathetically simple."

"Fine. The second question. Was the aim of the kidnapping to kill Harry or was it to sway him to your side?"

The laugh that escaped the chapped lips was harsh. "Ha! Sway him? Even a fool could see that the imbecile could not be swayed."

"So I assume that the aim was to kill him. The third questi…"

"Not just kill him, Draco. Break him. You should know better than that. If you must know the story, I will gladly share it with you. The Dark Lord was immensely pleased with my success, as you must know, and I was blessed with the chance of a first taking. Do you know how sweet that was, Draco? I hexed him day and night. I put him under the Cruiciatus for hours on end. I smashed his bones to tiny pieces only to fix him up and start all over again. Do you know how he screamed, Draco? He screamed beautifully…."

"Stop! Just stop!" Draco shouted. This was too much, he had wanted to know, but this was too much.

Smirking, Lucius continued, "I haven't even got to the good part yet, Draco. That was just the start. The real fun began when Voldemort decided to join in. The Dark Lord is a master at mind-games……"

"The Dark Lord _was_, Lucius. The scum is dead now. Killed by the very man you tried to break."

These words seemed to affect Lucius more than anything else. His smirk died and something alien flickered in his eyes. Draco couldn't really tell, but for a moment he thought it was sadness and despair that consumed the former Death Eater. This indecision only lasted for a moment, before a sneer was fixed in place and the eyes gained a new glint of malice.

"Dead? The Dark Lord cannot be killed. He is still alive, out there. And when I get out of here, I will rejoin him and be lauded as one of his most faithful servants."

Draco stared at Lucius closely. He watched the confidence and surety in the man's posture. He watched the belief in the man's grey eyes neither flicker nor wane. Suddenly frightened, Draco took an unconscious step back away from the man he had once called father.

"You're mad."

The sneer on the worn face only increased. "Mad? Mad? No. I am sane as I ever was. I _will_ get out of here. I will let you in on a little secret, Draco." Lucius' voice lowered to a whisper. "I have a plan."

The cackled that followed did nothing to relieve Draco of his fear. This man was mad. Stepping backwards quickly, Draco was about to turn and leave when a vice grip landed on his shoulder. Unwilling to show his fear, Draco schooled his mask like he had been trained to do and strengthened his Occlumency shields as best he could. Turning to Lucius, Draco looked at his coldly.

"Don't you want to know how we broke him, Draco? How we finally broke your little boyfriend? I'll tell you……."

"No need to tell me, Lucius. I know the ways of the Death Eaters."

"Ah, you think you know, Draco. I can see it in your eyes. You think you know, but you will never admit it. Too scared to acknowledge that your boyfriend is broken, Draco? Your precious Potter is more traumatized and affected than you know. He is broken, Draco. Your little toy is sullied and broken."

"He is none of that. You can believe what you want, Lucius. I cannot reason with madness. But Harry is as pure and as whole as he always was. Nothing you ever did could sully him. Nothing you did could break him."

"Ah, so sure, my son? But I haven't gotten to the absolute best part, Draco. You see, the Dark Lord is a master at these games. You want to know what he did, my son? One word. Polyjuice." Draco's expression contorted in revulsion and Lucius paused to sneer at his son in disdain.

"No, don't look at me like that. I did not touch the boy. None of the Inner Circle would sully ourselves so. We allowed the more loyal Death Eaters a chance, however. While they were on polyjuice, they tortured your precious Boy-Who-Lived. You see, Draco? We didn't defile him. We never hurt him. His godfather did; that abominable Sirius Black. And his father. The great James Potter sullied his own son. And we watched the light die in Harry Potter's eyes."

The cackles of the madman died with the slamming of the cell door. Draco leaned against the cold metal door and breathed deeply. The harsh, cold words still spun in Draco's mind and his shook his head violently as if he could physically throw them off his mind.

"Didn't go as well as you hoped, eh?" one of the guards said, but Draco just shook his head again.

Stepping away from the door, Draco watched as the guard re-locked the cell and started down the long hallways. Following in a daze, Draco muttered to himself.

"What did you say?" It seemed the guards were a lot more talkative now.

"That man's a madman," Draco muttered a little louder.

"Glad you noticed."

They had walked a short way before a loud laugh assaulted the quiet. Stopping in front of another cell, Draco and the guards looked around wearily. The laughter came again. Draco narrowed his eyes. He knew that voice.

"Little Draco thinks his father's a madman? Little Draco is right! But madmen sometimes speak the truth, little one. You'd do well to remember that," Bellatrix Lestrange shouted from her cell.

"Shut your trap you madwoman!" one guard shouted back and quickly swept his wand over the cell. Draco could not hear the sickening voice anymore.

"I'll kill the fella who forgot to put a silencing charm on that cell," the guard said before striding off.

As Draco followed, his thoughts swirled. The silence in the place _was_ unnatural. The screams and cries of the prisoners were never heard along the hallways. Even when Draco was out of the prison, sitting in the boat that would take him to shore, his thoughts would not right themselves. His mind was a mess of torture scenes and cackled warnings. He had wanted to know, hadn't he? And now he was dealing with the consequences. The sudden appearance of Bellatrix had further shaken him up. No matter that she was technically his aunt, he had always been afraid of her. She was sadistic to the extreme and what was more terrifying was that despite her apparent insanity, she was a powerful witch and a brilliant strategist. Draco did not know if her ramblings contained any grain of truth, but his instincts told him to take what she had said to heart. Lucius was mad, yes, but was he telling the truth? Draco did not want to admit to himself that Harry – his Harry – had gone through all that. Part of him was only too happy to dismiss the descriptions of torture as crazed ramblings of a delusional madman. But the larger part of him assured him that no matter how hard he tried to deny it, the things Lucius had described were only too possible. Both father and son knew the lengths Voldemort would go to break an enemy. Both knew that the words Lucius had spoken about Harry were true. But the difference was Draco knew the '_Dark Lord'_ was dead. Lucius did not.

* * *

Author's Note:

Ah! Mystery! Intrigue! Darkness! cackles insanely

I had so much fun writing this chapter. It was nice to do something totally dark, instead of working on laying the darkness as an undercurrent. I've been trying to do that with the other chapters, and its pretty hard since my forte seems to be in eternal doom and gloom. Hope you enjoyed this chapter! :)


	15. Chapter 14 Gardening

Chapter 14 – Gardening

"Sev! Hand me that rose bush will ya?"

"No I will not."

"What? Why?!"

"Because you are perfectly capable of getting it yourself."

"Sev!"

A frustrated and mildly amused grunt was Severus' reply.

"Fine! Nightmare, please get me the rose bush. The white one, if you will."

Nightmare, who had been busy digging beside his master, ran over to the rose bush, which was sitting right beside Severus. Nipping the Potions Master in the arm as punishment for his disobedience, the Grimm took the rose bush between his jaws and trotted back to Harry.

"Good boy! Guess who's getting a steak tonight? You can have Sev's." Harry grinned and scratched the fearsome beast right behind his ears; just how he liked it.

Severus glared at Harry, whose back was turned towards him.

"He's glaring at me, isn't he?" Harry asked Nightmare in a stage whisper.

"Brat."

"Git."

Smiling at each other, the trio, including Nightmare, went back to their gardening. This had been the routine for almost two weeks now. They had easily obtained the rights to the surrounding land, and had just as easily removed the rickety wooden fence that had circumvented the area. From then on, it was a simple job of ordering plants and seedlings in and set about planting their garden. Harry had put himself in charge of the flowers and vegetables, while Severus had been appointed herb and medicinal plants duty; all non-magical of course. Even Nightmare pitched in. He was a tremendous help with his large paws that were perfect for digging. Plus, the Grimm just loved getting dirty.

The garden was shaping up nicely, and Harry had even gotten his hands on a young willow tree. It was still a small thing that had barely reached Harry's height, but that was ok. Harry looked forward to watching it grow into a tall and regal willow. Although – he reasoned with himself – he would probably be dead before that happened.

After a good day of hot, hard and dirty work, the new trio would troop back into the house and settle down to dinner. Words were hardly ever needed, and the silences were comfortable and friendly. Severus had put his Potions research on hold for the moment, and Harry allowed him to help around the house. Neither admitted it, but building the house into a home from scratch was intensely fulfilling for the both of them. They would take a trip into the small town and shop for furniture, or household appliances. They had become familiar faces among the locals and were accepted readily into their fold. It had taken a while for Harry to get used to the crowdedness of the place – the town was larger than the one he had lived near before – but he managed it with Severus right beside him to give him support and assurance.

So it was a happy and contented trio that made themselves comfortable in front of the fire that evening. Nightmare took up his normal post on the rug in front of the fireplace, while Harry and Severus curled up on the couch with their newly purchased books.

It was nearing midnight when Severus finally broke the comfortable silence.

"Harry."

"Severus."

"It's been two weeks."

"I know, Sev. I'm trying."

"Are you sure?" Severus gazed at Harry critically, as if to ascertain if he was telling the truth.

Harry looked back at him with honest sincerity. "Yes, Sev. I am."

Severus nodded. "Alright then. I think we should retire now, it's getting late."

Getting up, the two headed to the bedroom and slid into the bed. There was only one bed, a decent sized four-poster that took up most of the room space. They were both more than comfortable sleeping side by side and neither ever commented on this. With quiet whispers of "Good night", both fell into an easy and deep sleep.

--

The sun seemed to be extra gentle that sunny afternoon and the rays were warming instead of uncomfortably hot. Harry and Severus were working side by side on a particularly large expanse of wisterias. Severus had let slip that he loved that particular flower, and Harry had rushed out to order a large bulk of them. Now, they were happily planting the beautiful buds with utmost care and love, like only a Potions Master and nature lover could. The atmosphere was calm and the trio was contented.

Thus it was a bit of a surprise when Harry decided to break the comfortable silence.

"You know, I still don't know how they found me in the first place. I don't understand how they knew I was there."

Severus listened intently, not saying anything. His hands calmly went on with the gardening. After a long moment's pause, Harry continued again.

"I mean, I recreated the wards around Godric's Hollow myself. And you helped. And so did Remus. Nobody should have known I was there, let alone been able to cross the wards."

Another pause.

"You know what I think? I think Voldemort was there."

That last statement hung in the air for a long time. It was about an hour later before Harry started to speak again, and when he did, it was like he had never stopped in the first place.

"Truthfully, besides Dumbledore, he was the only one who would have been able to even make a dent in the wards. Plus, there was a major flaw; the wards allowed entrance by right of blood. Voldemort had my blood in him, didn't he? After that Triwizard debacle. He must have entered first, 

and once he gained entrance, it must have been so easy for him to manipulate the wards to allow his Death Eaters entrance too. And I was too caught up in my anger, and my grief."

Harry frowned.

"I was crying. I remember. I was in my old nursery, and I was crying. I was remembering too. I was grieving for everybody who had died in that stupid war. And the next thing I knew, people in black robes and white masks were flooding into the room. Scary, that. I put up a fight. I think I did. I know I did. I blasted a lot of people. I remember throwing a whole lot of them out the window. But I blacked out. I don't know who hit me."

A look of amazement crossed Harry's face.

"It must have been Voldemort. I remember my scar hurting just before I blacked out. Voldemort _was_ there. He stunned me, or something."

This time, the silence stretched for a few minutes.

"I never really took the time to look back at the incident. Before now, I mean."

Harry's hands stopped their incessant movement. Throughout his dialogue, Harry had not stopped shoveling or planting. But now, he stopped and stared out into space, a vacant expression on his face.

"I was a fool."

At those words, Severus too stopped and turned to face Harry. Although Harry's expression was blank and unfeeling, Severus knew that he was hurting. Gently, he pried the shovel from Harry's hands and removed the gloves. Harry was pliant and yielding as Severus led him into the house and sat him down on the sitting room couch. Quickly making a drink for Harry in the kitchen, Severus curled up on the couch and pulled Harry to his side. He placed the comfortingly warm mug in Harry's hands and pulled the other man close. Nightmare – who had been patiently waiting for them to settle down – placed his head comfortably in Harry's lap and gave what comfort he could.

Looking down to the mug he held in his hands, Harry seemed to come out of his daze.

"Hot chocolate? With marshmallows? You usually make me tea." Harry's voice was soft and filled with a child-like wonder.

"You seem to like this a lot more than tea. You were always prone to chocolate in general, I believe."

Smiling softly at Severus' accurate observation, Harry sipped his chocolate. They sat in contented silence for a long while, each lost in their own thoughts. Harry was feeling much better. He had gotten at least one issue off his chest; his perceived weakness. Harry was ashamed that he had let his guard down so far that he had allowed himself to be kidnapped right from his own home. A home he had rebuilt from scratch. Stone by stone. The memories of that fateful night had spun in his mind all day. He had chosen to ignore them for too long, and now they came back with a fierce vengeance. His mind kept going over his stupidity and his weakness of giving into his grief. But at least Severus did not berate him. That was like a balm to his emotions.

"Do you remember, Harry, how I was caught?"

Harry looked up from his cup to stare quizzically into the older man's face. His expression spoke volumes and Harry suddenly realized what he was talking about.

"You mean, as a spy, Sev?"

"Yes."

Harry nodded and snuggled in closer to Severus. This was a sad topic for the both of them.

"It was only a matter of time before Voldemort found out, but it should not have been that early on in the war." Severus sighed. "I was distraught over Dumbledore. He was….. was…" A deeper sigh. "You know he was as close to father to me as I ever had. And to have to kill your own father….. It drove me to distraction. It was small. But it was enough for Voldemort to find out and come after me."

"He really loved you, you know," Harry interrupted. "He really did. Every time you were called for a Death Eater meeting, Albus would call me to his office. He would sit there and eat his lemon drops by the bagful and talk to me about everything under the sun. It took me awhile, but I soon realized that he was trying to distract himself from you."

Seeing the look of hurt on Severus' face, Harry was quick to dash whatever wrong assumptions the man had made.

"No, no, Sev. Not like that. He was worried about you. He always was. He'd talk and talk to me – even if I didn't even appear to be listening – and try to forget that he had sent you to the pits of hell. Once I expressed my opinion that I actually didn't hate you as much as he thought and that I actually respected you, he stopped hiding and started talking about you instead. He told me all these stories about you as a student, and how brave you were, and how smart. He always said that you were the absolute best Potions Master in the world, and he would never let anyone say otherwise."

Severus didn't know what to say, but Harry was not done yet.

"When Albus was… when Albus knew his time was nearing, he opened up a lot more. I still remember this one time, when you were called in the middle of the night. I think you told Albus that you knew that the Dark Lord was in a livid mood and that you were probably not going to be back in time for class the next day. He was distraught with worry and even I couldn't console him. He confessed then what I had always suspected. He loved you like a son, Severus. Like his very own son. Albus said that you were the one person he cared for and the one person he would miss the most when he died."

Harry slowly stroked Severus' arm comfortingly, as he cried into his shoulder. Harry knew that Severus always suspected the depth of the love Albus had for him, but he had always been too scared to admit it to himself. Harry let Severus cry in his grief, and his remembrance. When he calmed down after awhile, Harry continued.

"Albus left you everything in his will, you know that don't you Severus?"

The guilty expression that replaced some of the sadness told Harry all he needed to know.

"You've never read his will have you? You need to get this over with Sev, or you'll never be at peace. It took me a long time to get over my parent's death, and I never really knew them. Go to Dumbledore's vault. I know he left a letter for you there, among other stuff. You need to do this."

"A letter? How do you know?"

It was Harry's turn to look guilty.

"Because he told me. And he made me promise to make you read it. But there was the war, then after……" Harry shook himself. "But that's no excuse. I should have made you go."

Severus wrapped his arms around Harry to reassure him. "Don't blame yourself, Harry. It's not your fault. The fault is all mine. Me and my cowardice. I should have done the right thing, and properly grieved for the old man. You had your own problems to deal with."

Harry hummed his agreement and the two sat in contented silence for awhile. Nightmare, who had realized that his presence was unneeded, had settled down in front of the unused fireplace and contemplated his wizards. He had decided to adopt the older man too, since somehow, this older wizard and the younger one were connected. The Grimm could sense their closeness. He could also tell that the herbs and coffee man also had a heavy heart and a ravaged soul, just like his first master. It was in the way he carried himself, and the slight haunted look in his eyes that would never fade. Two battered and bruised souls for him to care for.

Finally, it was Severus that broke the silence.

"Nice try, Harry."

"Huh?"

"Good job at a diversion. But we need to get back to you."

"If I remember correctly, you started the conversation. I believe _you_ asked _me_ a question."

Severus gaped and blushed.

"Are you blushing? Severus Snape, are you blushing?"

Severus growled, but the effect was lost with his pink tinted cheeks.

"I never thought I'd live to see the day. You've never lost track of a conversation before, have you?" Harry smirked.

"You drove me to distraction," Severus scowled.

"And now my goal in life is complete," Harry grinned.

"Brat. The point I was trying to make with my sob story is that we are human Harry. With human emotions. And it just so happens that we have slightly more emotional baggage than others."

"Emotional baggage? Muggle term, Severus. Watch out, next thing you know, you'll be demanding a TV be installed in here."

"The day that happens is the day Draco stops carrying a mirror around with him everywhere he goes. And stop distracting me. As I was saying, we are entitled to our moments of weakness. Our damnable luck however, ensures that our every moment of weakness was exploited by a certain – now deceased – Dark Lord. We are not at fault, Harry. We have a right to grieve."

"I believe you, Sev."

"Do you? Really?"

"Ok, not really. But I'm trying to. I know you're right. I should stop blaming myself so much for being weak."

"You're not weak, Harry. And neither am I. We both got out of the war less than whole, yes, no one can deny that particular fact. But at least we're alive. And at least we can still feel. Unlike a certain disgusting megalomaniac."

Harry looked up and grinned at Severus.

"Damn straight."

* * *

Author's Note:

Ha! Another chapter that I like. A lot of angst here. But, it makes for a good mystery. :)

On another note. Thank you for all your reviews!! I know this recognition is quite late, but I kept forgetting to add a big THANK YOU at the end of the chapters. So… THANK YOU! Seriously, your little words of encouragement and comments are very important to me. And so is the fact that you all stick with my story. So thank you for reading, and for all those who have reviewed, thanks for reviewing. Hope you liked this chapter!


	16. Chapter 15 Panic Attack

Chapter 15 – Panic Attack

Draco Malfoy was pacing his study in agitation, his hands fisting his hair and his body tensed in preparation for an unseen fight. His fit of nervousness and tension had carried on for a week now, since his eventful trip to Azkaban prison. With every passing day, Draco became more frustrated with his own inadequacy. For the life of him, he could not straighten out his thoughts that swirled in incomprehensible patterns.

Was his father telling the truth? One moment Draco was absolutely sure that the words that had spewed out of his father's mouth were utter rubbish and the next moment, Draco was convinced that the scenes of torture he had described were the terrifying truth. And what about the plan Lucius had brought up? Was that the ramblings of a madman or the admittance of a readied escape plot? And what about Bellatrix? What was she on about?

Draco's thoughts went round and round those questions, but he found it impossible to settle on a single conclusion. His prided Slytherin cunning and intelligence were failing him now. Part of him believed that Azkaban and its depressing, disorienting sadness had affected him far more than he had first thought. Another part that Draco was too confused to acknowledge said that the reason he was so panicked was because the matter concerned his Harry. His sweet, innocent, brave Harry. Draco was not yet willing to admit that his inner voice seemed more than happy to call Harry 'his'. He was also not yet willing to deal with the part of him that had tinged green when he had first thought about Severus and Harry together as a couple. It had been quite easy to ignore then – or so Draco told himself – and he would ignore it now. He had _not_ been jealous of Severus. He was _not_ currently jealous of Severus either just because he got to spend so much time with Harry; alone. Without anyone else around. In their own house. He had to stop thinking of Harry as 'his'. He felt too much like he was betraying Ginny's memory.

It was while Draco was struggling with these confusing thoughts that the fire that had been steadily burning in his ornate fireplace turned a brilliant green and a certain red-head appeared within its harmless flames. Ron Weasley was not a naturally sensitive or intuitive man – that was his wife's area of expertise – but he knew that something serious was bothering Draco. The man looked distraught, and worse, depressed. He looked worked up and tense, like a bomb waiting to detonate.

Acting on instinct, Ron stepped through the fireplace to plant himself squarely in Draco's study. As he was dusting off his robes of soot, Draco finally noticed his unexpected visitor. Agitation, and his own feeling of helplessness reached a crescendo, and Draco snarled at his friend.

"What the bloody hell are you doing here Weasley?"

Instead of the affronted reaction he expected, Draco was surprised when Ron met his fevered gaze with calm blue eyes. He was even more surprised when the tall and well-built Auror strode forward and punched him squarely in the jaw. It only took a moment for him to shake of the disorientation, and for his pent up emotions to explode violently.

Draco dove at the taller man and pushed him to the floor. He managed to land a good blow or two on the red-head before he was unceremoniously thrown off; half-way across the room. Ron wasted no time and dragged Draco to his feet before slugging him in the gut. Draco responded with a low-blow to the nether regions, which would have incapacitated his opponent if not for the arm that was swiftly lowered to take most of the blow. As Draco was trying to sucker punch Ron again, the Auror utilized his skills and used the smaller man's momentum to grab him in a choke-hold. This was a short-lived victory as Draco smashed his palm upwards into his face. As Ron was trying to breathe around the blood that was pouring from his nose and filling his mouth, Draco finally realized that he was a wizard and whipped out his wand, pointing it at the struggling man.

"Who the hell are you? And what did you do with Ronald?" Draco snarled, his wand hand clenching and unclenching sporadically; he was livid.

"Itssh me yeeew isshiot….."

"What did you say? Speak up or Merlin's beard, I swear I'll hex you into oblivion." The wand was brandished even more threateningly.

Ron finally managed to wipe most of the blood from his nose and spat out the blood from his bleeding mouth into his robes. He looked up at Draco with an annoyed look.

"It's me you idiot."

Draco snorted. "Forgive me if I don't believe you."

"Scan me then, you prat!"

Draco was incensed that this supposed imposter had the nerve to order him around, but he realized that a scan _was_ the only way to know for sure. Anger escalating, Draco swept his wand over the bleeding man in a well-practiced motion. It was another habit gained during the war; there was no such thing as having too much security. When the words, "Ronald Bilius Weasley" appeared clearly on top of the intruder, Draco took a moment to be surprised before the all-consuming anger took up again.

"What the hell do you think you're doing Weasley? What? Finally figured out you didn't want to be friends with a Malfoy anymore?" he spat.

Ron just shrugged. "You looked like you needed to let off some steam."

With that, Draco's exaggerated anger deflated, and he slumped on the couch, defeated. He didn't want to admit it, but he needed the fight. The physical tussle seemed to drag him from his morose thoughts and keep the confusing fog at bay. Draco did not look up when he felt a weight settle beside him on the couch.

"You need to talk about something, ya?"

Draco only nodded. A quiet moment passed before he asked.

"What were you calling here for anyway?"

Grinning sheepishly Ron replied, "Oh. That. I just wanted to see if I could borrow a formal robe of yours. There's this Annual Auror's Ball and I was supposed to order a nice robe, as per Hermione's orders. But I forgot, and now it's too late to have one tailor-made. The ball's tomorrow, and I only remembered now, after work. Didn't want Mione to kill me."

"Figures."

Draco was contemplating spilling his soul and his worries when he felt Ron clap him on the shoulder comfortingly and rise from the couch.

"Come on mate. Let's Floo over to my place. I probably won't understand half the things you intend to say, so Mione's your best bet."

"You're a good friend, Ronald Weasley."

Ron blushed furiously at the honesty and sincerity in the words. He nodded in acceptance of the compliment and dragged Draco to the fireplace. Just as he was about to throw some Floor powder in, Ron stopped and turned to the now curious blonde.

"Uh, could you heal me? I'm no good with healing charms. And Hermione will have a fit if I bleed all over the carpet."

--

The restaurant was small and quaint. It was a family establishment, and the homey, loving atmosphere was much appreciated by the patrons. The wooden paneling and dark wood floors lent the place a sense of coziness and comfort that kept people coming back for more. The natural light that flooded in from full length windows supplemented the beautiful light fixtures that were strategically placed around the room. The tables and chairs were liberally spaced, giving each dining party a reassuring detachment from each other without being unduly distanced. Add to that the friendly, smiling faces of the waiters and owners, and it made a dining establishment that was the pride and joy of the small town.

And while Harry did manage to appreciate the charm of the place, it was buried deep beneath the panic and tension that seemed to build with each welcoming smile he got from the waiters. The warm, comforting hand at the small of his back that guided him to a small table at the front of the room, did little to calm his nerves. Turning sideways to glare at the owner of the hand, Harry was met with a knowing smirk and understanding eyes. Sighing, and resigning himself to the situation, Harry took a seat at the table and stared out the full-length window that was right beside him. At least they got good seats.

The owner of the hand, that had now left his back, was staring at him critically. In a fit of childish behavior, Harry stuck out his tongue at the annoying man and crossed his arms in frustration. This was replied with a sarcastic raise of the eyebrow.

"You're a meanie, Sev. Nobody likes a meanie."

"So you've said, Harry. Thousands of times. But, goodness me, here you are, still with me."

"Actually, I would rather be with Nightmare, but he isn't allowed in restaurants."

"For good reason."

Harry paused and stared out the window again. It was late afternoon, and most people had had their lunch and were going back to their work, or continuing their shopping. But there were still a fair number of people out grabbing a late lunch. Besides Harry and Severus, there were six other tables occupied with bustling, happy people. Harry was all too aware of this and his stomach was churning with tension; he didn't think he'd be able to eat anything.

Sighing heavily, Harry turned to Severus. "Why are we doing this again?"

Severus took it as a rhetorical question, and kept silent. He watched Harry to ensure that he wasn't in _too_ much of a panic, but he was distracted by the waiter who had come over to give them the menus. Severus knew that he was doing the right thing by trying to help Harry, but the tense and almost desperate look on Harry's face was making it hard for him to keep with the plan. He was a push-over when it came to Harry, it seemed. But he was determined to see this particular plan through.

When Harry did not get a reply from Severus, he sighed again and took the menu he was offered. Staring down unseeingly at the pages, Harry wondered for the first time if he really could do this like a normal person. When Severus had sprung this 'plan' on him this morning, Harry had had little time to actually grasp the situation and think it through properly. Belatedly, Harry realized that it was a very Slytherin move; not giving him time to really think this outing through gave him less time to truly revolt against the idea. Sometimes, Harry hated that Severus could manipulate him so well. Here he was, in the middle of a not-so-crowded restaurant, looking at a menu, and trying not to freak 

out. It had been years since he had eaten in any establishment besides 'Harry's Home Cooked Goodies'. This was not good. So many people. And all that noise. Did people _really_ have to talk so loud? And what was there to laugh about? This was not a laughing situation. Harry was pulled from his spiraling thoughts by a girly voice beside him.

"So, are you ready to order, gentlemen?"

Harry looked up from his menu to find Severus staring at him. Harry tried to smile for Severus' sake, but judging from the frown that graced his features, Harry knew he was failing. Looking up at the petite girl with a pen and pad at the ready, Harry shrugged sheepishly. He hadn't exactly been reading the menu.

"What are your specials today, Miss?"

Smiling a beaming smile, the girl replied, "Well, we have the Pan-fried Dory with tangy Mango sauce. Or the Rich Lamb Stew. Personally, the stew is my favorite. But the fish is also good, we got the fish shipment just this morning, so it's guaranteed to be fresh."

"I believe I will have the Dory," Severus decided.

Suddenly, two inquisitive gazes were leveled on Harry, and he blushed a faint pink. In a brief flash of paranoia, Harry thought that Severus and the waitress were ganging up on him.

"Umm… the stew?"

The girl seemed to ignore the fact that Harry's choice came out more like a question, and happily penned that down on her pad.

"Drinks then? And desserts? We got freshly baked apple pie."

"Some coffee will be good. And a pot of herbal tea, if you have it. And we will have two slices of that apple pie."

Grinning happily, the girl took their menus, with a sing-song, "Thank you!" and sped away.

"Must she be so happy?" Harry mumbled.

"And must you be so grumpy? Stop acting like this is the lowest pit of hell and start enjoying yourself. Stop acting like a spoilt brat."

"Maybe I would if I wasn't terrified out of my wits. Maybe I would if I stopped flinching every time someone talks too loud. Maybe I would if didn't feel like the walls are closing in on me. Maybe I would start to _enjoy_ myself if I could get past this suffocating fog of panic and claustrophobia!"

Harry's voice had risen steadily during his tirade, but the last statement came out in a hiss of displeasure. Even in his anger, Harry was wary enough not to draw too much attention to himself; the rest of the patrons were blithely unaware of the commotion at their table.

Instead of reacting angrily at Harry's outburst, as he had anticipated, Severus looked guilty. This calmed Harry down somewhat, and his anger disappeared as fast as it had arrived.

"I'm sorry Harry. I should not have taunted you. And I shouldn't have dragged you in here with so little notice."

Sighing heavily – Harry realized that he was doing a lot of that today – he shook his head. How was he supposed to stay angry at the man when he apologized so readily? The dreaded Potions Master really was becoming a softy.

"It's ok. I'll deal with it. Just don't expect me to be all happy about it. You still should have given me more time to prepare for this. Dashing in and out of a practically empty shop is one thing, sitting down in a small space shared with other people with artificially high waitresses is definitely a whole other game."

"I _am_ sorry. Though I didn't think your claustrophobia was that bad."

"It usually isn't. It's just the people. For example, if this restaurant was empty, the suffocating feeling that is threatening to cut off all my air supply wouldn't be half as bad. I don't know whether you can call that claustrophobia."

Severus frowned, "So even if this place is empty, you would still be frightened?"

Harry shrugged helplessly. "Comes from being kept in a closet for a better part of your childhood. That, and the….. you know…. dungeons. Terribly small space. Barely enough room to fit a nice garden plot."

Harry laughed uneasily, trying to shake away the memories he had inadvertently brought up. Images of the cell popped up in his mind. Small. And so cold. The bare stone grating against his bleeding body. The coldness seeping into his bones. The walls. The walls seemed to be getting smaller. Reaching forward to squeeze him. Squeeze him hard till he could draw no breath. The walls. Too small… To small…..

"Harry? Harry!"

A firm voice brought him out of his panic attack. Staring into concerned onyx eyes, Harry tried to get his breathing into order. He was panting heavily and sweat was rolling off him. Harry was thankful that Severus hadn't tried to touch him, for he would have reacted violently with the added incentive of the sickening memories. Ashamed that he had given in to his panic so easily, Harry covered his face with his hands and stifled his sobs. How could he be so weak?

A soothing presence appeared by his side, and Harry knew instinctively that Severus was beside him, offering him comfort. Lowering his hands, Harry turned to bury his face in Severus' shoulder, taking strength from his solidity. This was real. Severus was real. The memories were past. He wasn't in a cell; he was in a nice restaurant waiting for nice food to be served. Suddenly fearing that he was causing a scene, Harry sat back up and gave Severus a tentative smile.

Not a moment too soon, it seemed, for the waitress returned, her hands supporting a tray of delicious smelling food. Gesturing for Severus to retake his seat, Harry smiled at the waitress and allowed her to place his stew in front of him. He had to get through this. He wasn't weak. And this was a simple lunch. He could handle it.

The rest of the meal was suffered in silence. Harry shouldered on as best he could, and Severus made no mention to Harry's panic attack. The atmosphere was tense, and neither ate much, but Harry was trying, so Severus left it at that. It was not an hour later before the two reemerged into the sunlight of the outside, and quickly walked away from the welcoming restaurant. Without a word, Severus and Harry made their way out of the town, both intent on making a head start on the two hour walk home.

--

"I haven't had a panic attack like that in awhile."

It was late evening, and Harry and Severus were sitting comfortably on the couch, with Nightmare curled up at his master's feet. The Grimm sensed that his wizard was particularly worked up that night, and he was anxious to calm him.

"It was inevitable, it seems. Though I am amazed that you managed to get through the rest of the meal."

Harry looked up at the older man with a sad smile. "I kinda shut myself off. Closed my mind up and concentrated on the task at hand. No stray thoughts whatsoever. That's what happened during the Weasley party too."

Severus just nodded his understanding but said nothing.

"I guess I have you to thank for that. Occlumency has been a big help with all of this." Harry noticed the confused look on Severus' face and decided to elaborate. "I mean, Occlumency helps you partition off some parts of your mind, doesn't it? Isn't that why you were such a successful spy during the war? Usually, I just try not to think about anything traumatizing, but in moments like that – back at the restaurant – I shut down and keep everything under lock and key. It makes me kinda cold and distant, but at least I don't full out panic. Muggles have something like Occlumency too, you know. Meditation and stuff really does help."

"But Harry, Occlumency is magic in nature. No Muggle can put up the shields as effectively as we can, because our magic helps us. And when we get attacked by Legilimens, it is magic that repels the assault," Severus explained.

"No way, Severus. Stop joking."

The silence on Severus' part and the look of pure confusion and dread that showed on his face told Harry that he wasn't likely to be joking about this.

"You mean, I'm using magic right now?"

"If you have your Occlumency shields up, then yes."

Harry's mind spun with this new revelation. He had always thought that his shields were purely mental; that the barriers he had put up around his memories were the result of the deep meditation he practiced and his iron will to keep himself sane. To now find out that he had been using magic all this while was horrifying. Harry's hands flew up to his neck to grasp at the cold metal there. This should have worked. It was supposed to work. Why wasn't it working? And why wasn't he writhing on the floor in pain?

Suddenly, warm fingers were placed over his own and Harry flinched. Severus was staring at him with concern, and his fingers were gently tracing his neck. Harry forced himself to remain calm. Did he feel it? Could Severus feel the cold metal beneath his fingertips?

"Did they put a collar around you, Harry?"

For a dreaded moment, Harry's heart stopped.

"What?"

Severus expression softened at Harry's terrified tone. "When you were in the cell, did they put a collar on you? I've seen your hands fly to your neck when you're stressed or tense. You don't know you're doing it, do you?"

Harry shook his head and heaved a silent sigh of relief. Severus couldn't feel the collar; the spells Harry had painstakingly placed on the cold metal were working. No doubt Severus only felt smooth skin beneath his fingertips. His secret was still safe.

"They…. I think they did. I don't want to remember it now, Sev."

Severus nodded and pulled Harry closer into his embrace. He tucked the raven haired head under his chin and wrapped his arms around the smaller man.

"I think we've had enough progress for one day, hmm?"

Harry nodded silently and relaxed in the comforting hold. The disaster was postponed, for awhile at least. Severus didn't suspect a thing. Little did he know that Severus' thoughts were racing, and the great Slytherin spy was now more determined than ever to get Harry back to his old self; the people friendly Harry he had somehow lost along the way.

* * *

Author's Note:

Ah… another chapter done. This was kind of a hard one to write, what with the tension and the panic attack harry had to go through. Couldn't really get the flow. But hoped you liked it. :) as usual, any comments and reviews are appreciated.

PS: Hey Serafine, whoever you are, thanks for the heads up on "crescendo". I never realized what a mistake I was making! Haha… its good to learn when you do things the wrong way… so.. thanks a bunch!


	17. Chapter 16 Murderous Intentions

Chapter 16 – Murderous Intentions

"Ok, so let me get this straight. You, Ronald Weasley, forgot to go to the tailors to get your dress robes made, so in a desperate attempt to escape my wrath, you Flooed over to Draco's house to beg for a set? And then what were you planning on doing? Passing it off as yours? You know you can't lie to me, Ronald Weasley. It's futile. Ok, moving on. So you found Draco here near going out of his mind in confusion and what do you do then? You punch him?! And you Draco, did you really have to break my husband's nose?!"

Draco and Ron just stared at the raving Hermione in silence. Ron's silence was due to his aim to become as small and as unnoticeable as possible in hopes of having his wife's anger pass right by him. Draco's silence was due to his incredulity; which certainly didn't last very long.

"Are you mad woman?! I just told you a very disturbing story of torture and pain and a possible Azkaban break-out plan and you sit there and lecture me for breaking your husband's nose?!"

At this, Hermione turned an unpleasant shade of magenta. "I happen to like my husband's nose just the way it is!"

"Thanks hon," Ron unwisely quipped.

The smile on his recently bloodied face was wiped off when he was rounded on by two enraged people with a deafening, "Not now Ronald!"

Slinking into his seat and muttering under his breath, Ron resigned himself to waiting out the shouting match that his wife and Draco seemed all too happy to participate in. Ron was about halfway through his eight round of reciting the names of all the professional Quidditch players from the Chudley Cannons when he realized that a frigid silence had suddenly descended over the sitting room. Hesitatingly looking up, Ron was relieved to find that both Hermione and Draco were in one piece and seemed to be suffering from nothing worse than Glaring Eye Disease.

Sighing, Ron moved to sit beside his wife on the couch and folded her into a comforting hug, which she amazingly accepted.

"Ok you two, done with the screaming? I think we should talk about the information Draco has managed to get for us. I think it's very important."

Seeing that Hermione was about to interrupt, Ron hurried on.

"And yes, I know I did a stupid thing. Two stupid things. I know I should have gone to the tailor sooner. I'm sorry. But the other stupid thing, Draco needed. It's a guy thing. We need to get physical sometimes."

Hermione didn't look happy, but at least she nodded her head in acceptance. Happy to have staved off another lecture, at least for awhile, Ron looked expectantly at Draco.

"What's the chance that your father was telling the truth? About anything."

Now it was Draco's turn to slump into his seat.

"Truthfully? About Harry and his 'time' spent with Voldemort. Probably true. The sick bastard is definitely capable of that kind of depravity."

"But Sirius? And James?" Hermione's expression had taken on a sheen of horror.

"What better way to break someone?" Draco muttered.

All was silent for a moment. The three were lost in their own thoughts of Harry. They tried to imagine how Harry must have felt, what he must have thought, but all of them knew that their imaginations fell short of the actual terror that Harry had been through.

"This doesn't change anything."

Hermione and Draco looked up, surprised, at Ron.

"It doesn't. Now we know _how_ he was hurt. This revelation doesn't make him any more or any less hurt than last we saw him. He has all his memories of his incarceration, and he has been dealing with them for a long time now. If Harry was capable of breaking, he would have broken by now. He's not broken. This doesn't change anything."

"But hon, Harry may have blocked this out. He was by unconsciously blocking his own memories. You never know, Ron."

Ron shook his head firmly, "No Hermione, I do know. This is our Harry. The same Harry who lived through nights of witnessing Death Eater torture sessions willingly. You know how he felt."

Draco nodded. "Harry felt responsible for their deaths. He said that the least he could do was witness their deaths so someone would remember them. Someone would remember what happened to them, and what they sacrificed."

Draco had never really understood the reasons Harry had given, but he respected the Savior even more because of his selflessness. He had been there for Harry after every major nightmare. He had seen Harry through the worst of it. Draco understood how determined Harry could be.

"Exactly," Ron continued, "If nothing else, Harry would want to work through his problems because he'd want to think about Sirius and James again without having those memories tainted. I believe in him."

Hermione nodded, tears in her eyes. She believed in him too.

Draco shook his head. "Blind belief and faith." He paused. "An admirable Gryffindor trait."

"Thanks Draco. And don't try to fool us. You believe in Harry too," teased Ron.

Draco put his hands up in surrender. It was impossible to not believe in the Boy Wonder.

"So…. About the other thing? You know. The great Death Eater let's-break-out-of-prison plan. And let's not even mention the Voldemort thing. That's Azkaban talking," Ron pressed on.

"That's the thing, see. Lucius is crazy. Now, I can accept and believe that his descriptions of Harry's 'incident' are real, but about the break-out? I'm inclined to lump it together with his 'Voldemort is alive' craziness," said Draco.

"But we should always ere on the side of caution. What if there _is_ a plan to escape Azkaban. We have to know, and we have to stop them," Hermione pointed out.

"You're right, Mione. I think we should take that part seriously. And Draco, your father may not necessarily be crazy, just desperate."

"What do you mean?" Draco asked.

"I mean, your father thinking Voldemort is alive may not necessarily be all of his own doing. The guards, the Azkaban guards, are picked for a reason. The Ministry picks the most blood-thirsty, close to psychopathic-crazy Aurors and send them off the prison as guards. The others at HQ call it 'taking an extended island vacation'." Ron shuddered.

"So basically, you're sending vindictive, half-sane bastards to watch over vindictive, half-sane bastards in a prison that is still reeking with Dementor poisoning?" Draco's voice was laced with incredulity.

Ron just shrugged. "Pretty much. I'm not saying it's a good idea. All I'm saying is that no one in their right minds would go there, so they send the not-so-right ones. And I'm saying that maybe these guys were spreading the rumor around that Voldemort was still alive you know, to agitate the prisoners. Merlin knows I've heard far worst stories coming from that forsaken place."

"This makes it worse. This makes my father _not_ crazy. This makes him desperate. And a desperate Lucius is someone not to be taken lightly," Draco reasoned and inwardly shuddered.

"Exactly. And that Bellatrix woman. She was always a shrewd one, behind all her insanity. If she asked you to listen to Lucius, she must have a reason. But what? To warn you about the break out?" Hermione wondered.

"To scare me, more like it. She knows I'm terrified, or rather, _was_ terrified of Lucius. She may be related to me, but she was always out to make my life a living hell, even as a kid," Draco put in.

"Ok. But is her scare tactic based on fact or fiction? I can snoop around a little at work, talk to some of the guards when they come back to HQ," Ron added thoughtfully.

"That's a good idea, hon. This little tidbit is too potentially important for us to ignore it now. If those Death Eaters get out it would…" Hermione paused.

"… mean hell for all of us." Ron finished.

"Worse. It would mean hell for Harry." Draco shuddered.

--

Lucius Malfoy enjoyed luxury. He thrived in opulent dwellings and felt most at home among silk sheets and gilded furniture. He had been brought up in one of the richest wizarding homes, with the firm belief that as a Malfoy, he was naturally above and beyond the insignificant masses. Lucius had never settled for anything but the best, whether in choice of attire or choice of spouse. He demanded the best, and he usually got it. During Voldemort's first rise, Lucius had coveted the immense power that the Dark Lord wielded. Working tirelessly, he had established for himself a firm place at the side of the feared leader as his most trusted. His master's first fall had left him lost, but still unbeaten. Lucius had bribed and paid his way back to the Ministry's good graces and he had survived.

Now, sitting in a dark, cold cell, Lucius firmly believed that he would survive this second fall. The guards were not easy to bribe and Lucius had little to offer them while behind bars, but there was still hope. These guards, they were not the typical ramrod disciplined Aurors. These men were all touched by a little evil, a little madness, and it made them so much more pliable to his cause. And these men, they talked. They talked about a stirring of darkness outside these stone walls. A feeling of unrest among the masses, they said. As if they knew that Voldemort was not truly dead. This priceless morsel of information from the outside gave Lucius hope. The master he had given his entire life to was still alive; there was still hope of salvation.

And sitting on the squalid piece of cloth he called his bed, Lucius planned. He was determined to be worthy of his master's trust and his favor. He was his Lord's favorite strategist, and he could very 

well plan his way out of this mess. An escape plan. If that dog Sirius Black could accomplish it, so could Lucius. He had not meant to let slip any hint to his _son_, but the temptation had been irresistible. Draco had come, worried sick about that Harry Potter, and Lucius had taken great pleasure in spilling the truth about the torture his beloved had gone through. Seeing Draco so broken, Lucius let slip the idea of his escape plan just to see his son's destruction complete.

Getting up slowly, Lucius felt his way to the cell door and groped blindly for the peep-hole. Whispering a silent prayer to his master, Lucius pried open the metal with his fingers, breathing a sigh of relief when the panel slid aside easily. It seems the guards were getting lax with their spells. Soft light floated into the cell through the small section and Lucius stared out into the empty corridors. Soon, he would be on the other side of the door; free to take his revenge on the wizarding world. Free to stand beside the Dark Lord once again when he undoubtedly rose. Letting the light play on his outstretched hands, Lucius planned, and he waited.

In another cell, a few doors down, another Death Eater was having her own ruminations. Bellatrix Lestrange had always been a shrewd, intelligent woman. It came naturally with being born a Black, and it was honed to precision sharpness while in the service of the Dark Lord. Her insane tendencies and the mock-childish demeanor she affected were clever distractions and mere exaggerations of her natural proclivities. With this mask of insanity, Bellatrix hid her true nastiness, her true cunning.

Even sitting in a cold, dark cell in a forsaken prison, Bella's mind whirled with startling coherency. And she was under no misconceptions. She knew that the Dark Lord had perished. Despite what the guards told her – and what her cohorts in their own cells were so eager to believe – she knew that Voldemort was well and truly dead. No amount of luck or Dark Magic could bring him back now. She also knew that Lucius Malfoy was slowly but inevitably slipping away. Too used to the high life of luxury and too accustomed to buying his way out of every trouble, the Dark Lord's former second-in-command was slowly letting his sanity slip away from him. Lucius was convinced of the Dark Lord's resilience. He was probably concocting some half-baked escape plan in his cell, whispering to himself fervently. But Bellatrix knew that he had his uses. Even in his madness and desperation, Lucius would be of tremendous aid to her plans.

A soft scraping sound, of coarse cloth on worn stone, reached her ears and Bella stilled herself. The sound had come from outside her small cell, but no sound was supposed to penetrate the metal and stone. Bella knew that as a rule, the guards were supposed to raise silencing barriers, and strong anti-magic wards over each cell. It was the basic practice in the prison. It seemed the guards were getting sloppy, but Bella knew that it was intentional sloppiness, if anything. Hearing the soft rustle yet again, Bella moved to the door of her cell. Sliding open the hatch that should have been spelled shut, she looked out into the barely illuminated gloom. There. In the corner. Movement.

A dark figure stepped partially into the weak light thrown by a distant torch. Dark clothes and indiscernible features. She had not thought that this person would come again so soon. Bella was no fool, she knew that this person was her key to an escape, but she was appropriately cautious. She waited for the man to speak. She would offer only her silence.

"Planning away, are we?"

The silence was only broken by two ragged breaths.

"The time to act has not yet come, Bellatrix Lestrange. And yet, it draws closer. Who do I choose? What can you offer me?"

The man seemed to take Bella's silence as an answer all of its own.

"Very well then, I shall go bother Lucius now. I am sure he would be much nicer company."

As the man walked away, Bella once again kept her silence. She had to be careful with this one. This was her last chance at freedom. And power.

* * *

Author's Note:

Another late chapter, and I apologize profusely for this. The ideas are all there in my head but when I try to transfer them unto paper, they somehow seem… 'off'. In other words, my writing skills have gone down the drain. Add to that, the fact that I'm currently trying to shift into my new dorm and settling into college life, and you have a whole heap of excuses to justify this very late chapter. I am very sorry! Once I settle in, I shld get the groove back! Hopefully! Thanks for reading! ;)


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